A Solar Apogee of Indigo Mystics || Catherine West

a kind of freedom lives in yellow and indigo
     a bit of hate remains
in the stickiness of sidewalks
on small brown, slick, freeze-pop fingers

balls of gold glow less and so too inhibitions
of bare-skinned limbs in mangled jeans
from long party nights and lusty red lights
living on sweaty cocoa skin

chalk-stained sidewalks fade, old mascara
     on grey eyes and silver seams
snaps of double-dutch ropes, scurrying gym shoes
hide and seek where we vanish as ghosts

cotton wraps lie one on top of two on top of three
enshrine bodies and trap movement
where humid longing remains entombed

trills of bells, clicks of computers, squares and grills
     easy peace and easier violence
clustered frames and bunched buildings
small steel projectiles shattering glass and lives

taken all into some languid equation of existence
stripped of ballads and romantic words

we stand here waiting for all that is next

This was originally published in Fall 2017 edition of The Helix.

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