she chose to hang with the good and the ugly
best leave bad enough alone
picture mysteries and day-glo spots
her masterpieces fade with the morning light
but she’s an artist just the same
logic depends on feeling, she knew
incoherent, intersecting cubist tracers
of love and loss and longing
a binge of emotion to detox from
the music wouldn’t go away
the blood won’t stop
sometimes the song doesn’t end just because
it’s dark and time to go to bed
she knows that music, you see
those delicate, overpowering strains
her one golden gift, promise to a child
she cared now, it filled her heart to listen
she wanted it all, give and take
this one belonged to her
she must not lose it
Dear God, her hands were trembling so
her heart beat so hard, you could see it
in her throat, you could feel it
in her eyes
she thought it was over
how could it not be over?
she reached inside and knew
it would never be over . . .