f/lush

She could not keep from sipping then turning red. 

In bed. She swallowed red from bottles and sometimes

amber fizz from cans. She took for granted youth 

she wanted to postpone. Aged quickly

on her own. Her body, small and tolerant

of what slithered down her throat. Those who wanted

her, took her out where together they would drain

containers to forget the tiring earth, the Midwestern

    lack of mirth. She mainly wanted time alone. 

    Could not keep from gentling into night 

    with a pen and a pad with lines 

    on which she wrote new lines from bed.