Every piece of the party was perfect
The way you stood on the doorstep, the strength of your nerves melting even the hardest heart
The look on your face as I came down the stairs
The compliment for mother, delicate as the flower you’d placed on my wrist
Your back, so straight and strong father almost salutes
The car at the kerb with you holding the door
Slipping silently through the streets, reaching nervously for your hand
Your chest swollen with pride as I take your arm
On the dancefloor, your hand on my back, sparks from your fingertips against my skin
The looks of the other girls
Every piece of the party was perfect
Except the powder you put in my drink
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Writing. Just like everyone else