THE HOLLYWOOD FEMALE: A WORKING TITLE
It’s hard to face
That her back is the only view.
That when the slideshow plays,
It focuses on neck and nerves,
Face blurred in silent scenes.
/
Like some Grecian tale of a
bathing nymph,
She’d catch the worshipping eyes
and steal them all for pearls.
She’d leave the base she
never called home,
Escape the lulling hammocks
to roam.
/
No rocking chair would suffice,
No skin warm enough to keep.
So she’d play in minds,
And dance with ideas,
leaving cheeks flamed
And hands cold.
/
She’d listen and leave,
As rays caught lips,
Focus into fade,
Just as they speak.
/
Cause that picture,
which flickered,
would never depict her
whole.
– Emma Jennings