The moveable feasts of chandeliers and wealth

They spoke of wealth (of course I had none)
Their clothes spoke of it, their speech and their
Blonde-honeyed hair, every freckle on their nose,
Knee and cheek. It was always flowers
And poetry that made my broken heart smile.
The light from the sun. Now that was my chandelier.
I always wonder why I felt so small in your world
You are still my dream as tender as a Paris meadow
Diving into the closet under the bed
Filled with monsters and with wild beasts
Dressed to the nines dressed to impressed
I am that woman who sleeps alone who eats alone
In her forest. I wait and watch for you the flowing river
In childhood we were loyal to each other
We were blossoming us sisters and that is the truth
You were my manna from heaven
You were my Moses and my burning bush
I believed that you existed with all your airs and graces
You took your powerful singing place amongst
All the gods and goddesses and I worshiped
You then as I worship you then as you dance
Far and away outwards from my embrace.