Ode to Ruby Rose

Your hair is sunlight


Illuminating your face


Strands like fingers




Sweet caresses


To your skin


Of silken lace




Mine is brittle


Whose strands betray


And belittle


The pulp that lies


Beneath my eyes


Flesh ruddy and hostile




Your breath kisses the wind


Mine is stained with the scent


Of cigarettes and sin


I have lived amongst men


But love only women


You love none


More than yourself


And display your body


For a living


I display my mind


And am a dying monument


To life upon the shelf




Your eyes shine like cerulean


And the diamonds you wear


Suggest the wealth of your talent


If only I could rest my head


Between your breast’s


Heaves of submission


And be reborn as beauty


Love, truth


And death in remission




You are an illustrated woman


Your flesh frames


Each picture you portray


So, I read you with a lascivious look


Devour your painted form


Like an open book


And then I look again


And imagine


That you have stamped


My library card of a heart


With a kiss of approval




But you are no more real


Than the love I feel


When I gaze at photographs


Of you


For you are young


And I am too old and ugly


To be loved by one


As beautiful as you