Ruby Infinite

Some stars collapse. Marilyn refracts. A rare cosmic body — champagne light through a ruby the size of a soul — she does not burn out. She turns. Infinite in aspect. Cosmic in orbit. Too rare to be archived, too bright to be only famous. The veil is a lens. The camera is a séance. The song is how she stays.

“I’ll never forget her glimmering ruby countenance.”