Sweet sweet child of mine

While she's dancing with her yellow scarf, I watch her moves, how she works the room, unaware of her impact on my night.She radiates through my life, stumbles around with me on red latex high heels on unsecure streets in a city too big for us. It must be faith, nothing else would have brought us together like this. I become alive in her company, as we dress up like little girls: too dramatic, with excessive powder, extravagant make up, adapting theatrical gestures.

She just entered, not accompanied by any bright fireworks. We're melting (into each others lives), become sisters, lovers, friends, soulmates. She's kept me sane, always close, holding my hand when the day gets to complicated. She knows which words I need, I help her restless soul to calm down, dry her tears when reality blemishes her relentless skin.

”It's us against the world” she says, just as if she's discovered some new truth (because she's not old enough to know how many times those lines have been uttered before). She's just life, unspoiled, undamaged. And I have to stay close to her, just to get some of the electricity, magnetism, beauty.