Girls like me
What’s that suppose to mean
Going thru the pigments to spot my cheeks and accentuate my eyes
Crazy hair in the light of the moon
Shrills of his laughter from disbelief
Vows ready to be sung
Brushing them off with laughter from such an accomplishment
Roping down the stars to replace the lights in the hall
Wrists pressed with kisses
Beauty is in the energy and it remains thickly sweet in the air
With running water the colors fade
In the mirror is a fresh face and in the corner he’s smiling
