Weetzie Wished She Could Shake Blue Glitter

We Got Quiet. The Garden Was Combing Her Hair And Putting On Earrings. The House Was Full Of Dancing Creatures, Not Male And Female But Both, Two Lovers In One Body. The Books Downstairs Were Reciting Their Poetry To Each Other, Rubbing Together, Whispering Through The Leather Covers. Wine Was Flowing Through The Water Pipes. You Had Caught My Leaping Heart In Your Hand Like A Fish.

Sometimes She Wore Levi's With White-suede Fringe Sewn Down The Legs And A Feathered Indian Headdress, Sometimes Old Fifties' Taffeta Dresses Covered With Poetry Written In Glitter, Or Dresses Made Of Kids' Sheets Printed With Pink Piglets Or Disney Characters.

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

She Wished She Had A Little Yellow House Of Her Own, With A Flower Box Full Of Real Flowers And Herbs – Pansies And Rosemary – And A Sweet Lover Who Would Swing Dance With Her In The Evenings And Cook Pasta And Read Poetry Aloud.

Beauty Loved Him More Than Anything, Her Beast Boy, But, Secretly, Sometimes, She Wished He Would Have Remained A Beast.