as marilyn

Part I.
Blazing blue
bonny billy spirals
like a lightbulb glowing
revealing the way hair wraps around itself
strangling singularity and leading the eye
circling in down the tunnel towards truth.
He’s aloof as he stands there
like a lighthouse saving ships
without moving
He takes my hand and spins me around
our costumes clashing
different minds united in one time
waist line leading to wasteland
His hair on end at the sight of skin,
he’s doing up the figures
on the relativity of love.
I thought I saw him sigh
as I walked
back down the stairway.

Part II.
Awkward in his suit
the most powerful man
the most powerful land
and a girl to throw it all off
He’s lost in the way I glance back
over my shoulder
asking for help with my gloves.
To see this prince stutter, mutter
forget the point of his platform
the planks giving way to desire,
to make a liar out of an honest man,
it makes me even more sure
I do what I can
and come out
victory in colors.

Part III.
So I looked in the mirror
at myself
equal parts
of this evening performance
I smiled and watched
the corners of her mouth trace a semicircle
out of habit
So beautiful
are those things we most want
and so lonely when they want for identity.
Bleached and painted
pursuing excellence in personification of the lips
the swing and the bush, the curl and the blush
of the hips of the hair of the lips from the stare
She’s aware of what she’s doing
still she proceeds
But what of her needs?
It’s true.
We are lost.