sing, girl, sing!

Eleanor lee ‘21

A crackled kickball field baked and dusty,

I stood,

a yellow star surrounded by black and white.

My voice spun

up and over braided heads and shining locks,

slipping

through thick air and

the musty smell of those beautiful girls.

My voice was the

shimmying sweat that ran down their backs,

the heat

that came from warm thighs and neon shorts.

We twinkled

aggressively, loudly, wildly.

Beyonce and I turned

all of us

into stars.