In a pair of your sister’s
pink socks
you had a dance party—

through the phone
I could hear the
shuffle of your

feet on the carpet,
I could see your free
hand wave above

your head, your
eyes squeezed
shut, smiling, and I

could hear in
the back the beat
of the News, though

you claim not to
know the Power of Love—
but I Know you

Know it, you
pink footed dancer, you
brown-haired wonder-girl, you
singer of secrets!