When we were children
you made up people -
angels and demons,
and I believed them.
The angel was named Shari
and she protected you.
She knew you by the
crystal you carried in your
small and thin little hand.
You would interpret for me
all of the lovely things
she said.
And the demon, his name
was the joker – after Batman,
and he toyed with us,
scared us by creating
cold spots and whispering
dark secrets in our ears.
He was so frightening –
so much fear and anger
for a little girl, but we both
had rage in us – even at that age.
We both had been scarred
and needed someone to
personify evil, to fight
and to win against.
And so we did, we fought
the joker, and then
Shari would appear
with her golden wings
and warm, warm smile
and she would save us
almost every time.
