Always these young women in search of power,

their eyes rolled back in their heads, midriffs exposed.

Always some girl with a candle in a dark room –

and poof, her face brightens as she achieves

some moment of bliss. The raindrops around her freeze


in midair, the wolves stop baring their fangs, and for a moment

the young girl marvels at her own invincibility.

But then it’s fire, fire, always someone with a stake or a knife

ready to do her in. She is a spark about to go out.







Photo by Hery Zo Rakotondramanana on Flickr