Spiralling

the ghosts of the girls we were
stir in our consciousness
beckoning with sirens’ calls of
free spirits gifted with taut skin and firm bodies
they sing songs of how once
we loved with reckless abandon as
we risked without regard for loss

they spin their nostalgic tales
overshadowing our clouded memories of
the tears we cried when our hearts first shattered
the sleepless nights we agonized
over losses that stole our naïve loves away

we have scarred and healed and grown since then
and their voices recall only glory
they tell us we were heroines
luring us to look backward instead of ahead

our heads turned over our shoulders,
we are lured into their distant provinces and we lose our way
we stumble upon a past more alive than the present

we yearn to be again as we were
before we were wounded and stretched

into the women we became