Just a note: Crysi, I may submit this, so look at your own peril (she's an editor of the school lit mag, see).
She was a dancing
girl. One of those
tooskinny-makeup-overload
types with a fake
smile plastered
on her face, more
stiffly than the
bright wig
perched on
her head.
Red songs sung by blue girls
meshed together
on the blue-green
afternoon gold
of a summer night
in the city.
Together they formed
a lightening show.
