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.
--Wulf
Losee
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