She lives in the windy house of my head <br />Sleeps in a four-poster bed <br />I thought might please her <br /> <br />And she smiles for me sometimes <br />But still I'm uneasy <br />Doesn't she get lonely there all by herself? <br />Wouldn't she like to go out <br />To go shopping <br />Maybe look up a friend <br />Get her hair fixed <br />Get a job? <br /> <br />Isn't it time she had a name? <br /> <br />I think of her as I climb the red staircase <br />Wasn't she a little girl once? <br />When I'm not looking <br />And a brown light fills the room <br />Does she take out old photographs? <br />Does she take out a face and try it on? <br /> <br />What does she dream when the mirrors fold <br />When comets blaze across the bony ceiling <br />When petals of electricity stain the horizon <br />Of my closed and flickering lids?<br /><br />John Garth Raubenheimer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-red-staircase/
