By Gina Dawson
All bits and pieces of us.
Proud, angry, assuming.
A belief in something
bigger than us all.
A fear of being alone/
Held captive for eternity
amongst the stars.
The nights burn brighter.
Lights are winking,
winking on fire.
Burning imprints
on the delicate celluloid
raised across our minds.
Offbeat, strange, an oddity.
Attractive in a loop-de-loop
clumsy pup way.
We switch ourselves up there.
You are me and I am you
are all of ourselves
come together.
And as always
we end up in
the here and now
alone.