Magical Girls (poem?)

    I have often met girls in my life who sparkle differently than others do. They have an energy that spreads across oceans. They radiate like the fucking sun. They 

shoot up glitter and pop stars like pills. They're magic. 

     I often think about these girls in the context of stories. One story I often come back to is about a girl, obviously, and she goes to this club, or a party, or a concert, or somewhere else that magical girls often end up in.

     And the club feels like swirling neon smoke that sparkles under blacklight. Every ounce of energy in the room is taken up by her alone. 

     And this girl meets somebody. And they talk and they dance till the sun creeps through the midnight sky. And obviously by the end of the story, they fall in love. But the story isn't from the girl's perspective. It's from the perspective of the person she meets.

     Because that's the thing about magical girls. They're more beautiful just to witness.