already late on the top floor of a family home there’s a stirring, a door closed for the night containing childhood & a truth too few have access to. Inside the screen glows blue & captivates: small star, the cause & cure of the dark surrounding, her face hypnotic, her face but not the girlish face, not the careless beauty of youth unfiltered but a graduation to the womanhood she seeks in every throwaway pose which costs her more than she could know her hand as light as a spring leaf each fingerprint now lost because it’s fun to give a part of yourself you don’t yet understand. This is bedtime, this is breakfast bathroom bus to school the group of friends the class’s end the break the lunch the bus back home & clicking closed the bedroom door.