Hand prints smeared on the window

Peering in to the firelight

Of belonging and acceptance

Those reclining and dining

Never noticing

The Matchstick Girl

Freezing on the corner

With her grimey face

Pressed against the glass...

She turns around

Lights up each matchstick

One by one

And a ballerina dances

Within the blue flame

Keeping her alive

When all things die

And people pass her by

On the street

Where exists defeat

Those are challenges

To meet

An inner life

Written in fire

Cemented by desire

Lit by the single spark

Of one machstick...

Struck in the dark

[Edited 1/24/13 22:58pm]