Saturday Late Night Poetry Jam

 Sparkles


By James Grob

She sometimes stands tall,
though she’s not at all,
and raises her chin
and her voice
as if to challenge the world to
notice her.

She sets sharp slices
of my spirit sparkling
warm in places where
I didn’t know it was cold.

My fire flickers now.
Walk through it with me?
Dance with me in my soul?

I’m stunned at times to find
her spirit also shines.
Her eyes
sparkle with excited wonder
sometimes
when they meet mine.

I know she hides a fire
when she stifles her smile
and she sometimes blushes
and she knows it.
I know her whole body glows
I see only her uncovered flesh
but I imagine the rest.

That’s when I like her most, I think.
When I know she knows
she’s blushing.