Sleepover

Eight-o-clock laughs drift past our lips,
Gossip sessions turn into hysterical outbursts,
Caramel cake becomes a messy project.
Rooster oven-mitts cause a frenzy.

Moonlight outlines our sleepy silhouettes,
We fight jokingly- cans of hair product in hand.
The living room turned relaxing to war-zone,
Our photographs line our walls to this day.

Seven a.m. and soon the hysteria stops,
We collapse, exhausted, smiles on our faces.
Awoken early the next sunny morning,
We walk to the park, our faces still smiling.