Indie Rose

twenty three.

Indie laced red lipstick on 

And hung me out to dry

Forty going north

She only smoked to die

Black velvet wrapped 

Round pale, lithe limbs

And me in mama's heels --

(That dwarfed my little girl bones)

(That swallowed my little girl bones)

(I swallowed the silence too) 

I feel me watching from the yellowed reel 

Of Gold leaf room painted white 

Painted bone and steel

The cold was home to us

We liked it hanging from the walls

Indie raced and Indie laced

Red lipstick on her full moon face 

And eyes smoke-mussed

That swallowed her up, she clicked

So tall on those tall heels

She -  rising out the door.

I don't see her anymore

I hear her on the telephone

I hear her drift so far from home 

(She don't want to come back)

I imagine her in star-tricked halls and ever

Dressed in black

She narrates ink over the line

To me -- left behind

Wishing her back,

Me -- sipping mama's wine

And fishing out thoughts picture-clicked in black

And black and white, locked up inside

A wish-gone sky

They tell me if wishes were horses

The beggars would ride