The other Monroe

When she lifted her skirt
The world was hers to flirt.


She was on glamour dialysis
For her soul it was the chassis.


Damsel is reel life, distressed in real
Except her own, many-a-hearts she did heal.


The world was her pillow, its people all kinds of cotton
Yet the night was a yardley of insecurities unforgotten.


She beat her past to the finish line
And the world lost her in her prime.

The naked tree.

The naked tree.
Most elegant on Earth.
The grace of the swamp.


Estranged lover of yesterday's air.
Falling in love with today's breeze.
It's the highest honesty.


No leaves cover its nascence
and none hide the dark circles.


It is not just a manifestation.
It is God.