War Is Being Reminded That

I'd Sit Around Dreaming That The Boys I Saw At Shows Or At Work - The Boys With Silver Earrings And Big Boots - Would Tell Me I Was Beautiful, Take Me Home And Feed Me Thai Food Or Omelets And Undress Me And Make Love To Me All Night With The Palm Trees Whispering Windsongs About A Tortured Gleaming City And The Moonlight Like Flame Melting Our Candle Bodies.

Maybe Her Own Tears Were The Poison That Made Her Grow.

At First We Raced Through Space, Like Shadows And Light; Her Rants, My Raves; Her Dark Hair, My Blonde; Black Dresses, White. She's A Purple-black African-violet-dark Butterfly And I A White Moth. We Were Two Wild Ponies, Dawn And Midnight, The Wind Electrifying Our Manes And Our Hooves Quaking The City; We Were Photo Negatives Of Each Other, Together Making The Perfect Image Of A Girl.

It's Scary To Become A Woman In This World. We Have To Understand That Some Of The Messages We Get, Messages That We Are Not Enough, Are There To Keep Our Power In Check. We Can't Buy Into These Messages.

No Matter Where I Am, I Am Always Loving You.