sonnet to a film star

Sonnet to a Film-Star

It wasn’t her creamy body that caught
my attention, nothing unusual about it,
curvaceous, yes, but going soft. It was
her eyes, in a blink, they were blue,
green or brown depending on her mood
that changed faster than traffic lights
on Sunset Boulevard, between laughter,
pain and suspicion. I could see her soul
wide open eyes; they killed her slowly,
those famous men who wouldn’t let her
grow, a dumb blond forever. If I met her
I could have made her happy, but when
I found the courage to ring her doorbell,
Marilyn wasn’t around anymore