Casey Shelley

Two little lines make you mine: already, running out of time. Pink or blue who are you? A million second-hand shoes try to make it true. Not a mother then, a flutter. No sign of red: full speed ahead. It’s one last chance or cancelled plans. It’s dark, quiet rooms: all eyes on you. Balloons, ribbons, and bows: a model posing for the show. Showered by a sea of should, just like her I wish I could. Minutes fly, it’s time to go: together, trekked the rugged road. Fluorescent lights and one last push: a love straight from a storybook.