for Judee Sill
A girl is singing
out on someone's digital
screen. She seems
to be saying, I
don't care any more,
but I care so very
much, don't you know?
Can't you tell? Her unloved
lips form the words
like they've been searching
for the right time all
her life to finally
let them out. It
hurts watching them escape,
balloons losing air,
leaving her playing
guitar alone
without them. Each one
requires a sweet squeezing
of her facial
features into a
silent agony
that looks almost like
an unexpected
ecstasy at last.
Her white embroidered
peasant blouse hangs loose
around her thin arms,
little broken wings
flowing, beautiful
somehow in the setting
sun. All that cruelty
endured getting
sadder before our
cracking, spilling eyes.
Her own rose-colored
glasses hiding the
barest, darkened eye
lashes. Looks doomed to
fall against life's door.