Marilyn

She fell on the ice
And cracked her hands
On the cold
(Her eyes wintry blue
And silver lips)

Frozen she seemed
From head to fingertips

A rustic from the old
Days when blue was worn
For virginity
And gentlemen held
Firm by a woman's side

(Not like a testimony
Of far away pride
Too wrapped up in
Self pity
To hear themselves cry)

And she looked up at the
Iced over sun
With the ice clouds
Brewing above
She knew she was hurting
But only ignored
The pain

(How could she
Love her body
With the cuts
And bruises
And broken veins)

And magic streams
From her hair
Like a parade,
A dance,
A song
Colors too painful to look at
But can't help but notice
When she's gone

And she survived the fall
All too well
For a bruise to form
Anywhere, except her soul
And dress
Tattered, and torn

With age,
She cried and raged
For lonely words
She could only whisper
Secrets bared
Etched on a page
And trapped inside
A hollow stem
Full of captivity
Locked in her cage

Her eyes grew cold
With longevity
And for a moment
She was a star
Among them all