The wax in your wane
Needle on smooth track
A song from twenty years back
When you didn’t have
The holes you have now
Crocheting skin with doubt
When you just threw yourself open
Dancing in a crowd with long wick
Breasts high, chin tight, feet on tiptoe
The candle lasted all through night 
And we spilled, like red polinated seeds
Out into dark city streets
Bra straps, cyclist legs, powdered glee
It’s not the bravado of youth 
But the absence of ghosts
Keeps us free
I am you 
I am the flicker of past who asks
What did you do with your true self?
Packaged up in trepidation so soft
Lulled yourself to sleepwalking 
Years passed like finger on fast forward
Before you know 
On the cusp of memory
A girl with an open smile
Running towards you
Gone, not lost
Unpick the confine
Let her out
That she may find again