Springtime in the Underworld
She sits in her car waits for the rain to end
listens to classic rock songs from before she was born
her cigarette flares in the green radio light
smoke seeps through clenched teeth
teeth stained with lipstick red as pomegranate seeds.
Her thoughts wander through a hothouse
filled with dead orchids she strokes parchment leaves
brown as nicotine they drain the color from her skin
and life returns to them briefly
tear-drop flowers dangle and coagulate.
That mummified bird she found under the driver's seat
wasn't an omen just a reminder note
from a season of amnesia but feathers pinned to lizard skin
tell her there's no way home that's free from memory
so she's sleepless because she prefers not to fly
in her dreams.