I've lost my lip gloss tonight
All my girls match me hyperventilating
As I clap my feet down on the track
It's a strong white light
and I'm two stepping in my hard work.
Eyes wide open, I'm at the hundred mark line.
I push harder.
Shoot for the finish line.
Kick it.
I never hear the last steps.
I dash across, unknowingly.
The bleachers go wild for us.
I've finished first and they love
my team
for it.
Everyone cheering is a
familiar face.
But there are
some streets
certain mailboxes
where we'd be mentioned
and hear them say
my name
around the block.