Needless Things: Hollywood Psychedelica

Smoke curls like secrets from a silver screen, As celluloid ghosts drift in Technicolor sheen. Hollywood’s angels, bare and divine, Float through my mind like spilled red wine.

Eyes wide open in a velvet haze, I wander through ultraviolet days. Their laughter loops on looping reel, A whispered truth I almost feel.

They rise from pools of melted gold, With stardust skin and glances bold. Hair like fire, hips like tide— A thousand Eves with nothing to hide.

Marilyn melts into Monroe rain, Lucy laughs through morphing pain. Hepburn hums in fractal light, A goddess fractured, pure and bright.

Curtains ripple in cosmic breeze, As time bends down on trembling knees. Every breath tastes like perfume sin, As nude illusions pull me in.

They dance on hills that breathe and bleed, In dreams no sober heart could heed. Not flesh, but flame, in strobe-lit bloom— Their beauty born of myth and shroom.

And when the reel begins to burn, And all the starlet faces turn, They speak in smoke, in silent screams— "You saw us once… within your dreams." NNN