indigo

it was one of those days
when she needed to hear
some motion music
in matching volume

she tried tori amos,
then terence trent d’arby
then macy gray
in various levels

finally she reached the bottom
of the stack of cds
and there it was,
unheard for too long,

the album of indigo
this cd her sister
had given her once,
years ago

and that now,
in one swift turn,
filled the room
with this peculiar

very right,
very deep,
very pointed
subversity