In the woods:
I’ll look and pray.
Hope the girls makes it home okay.
Words are like Christmas lights wrapped around a home;
They sparkle and break.
Their meanings make less sense the longer we stare at the mechanism
That makes them glow.
I once touched a girl where she made it glow.
She touched my head and pushed me back to the ground.
Such a fright,
On the eyes,
She never wanted to see me again.
And she won’t.
I heard she made it home okay.