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Armies have marched over you.
Your thick black hair burned off your forehead,
no one knows or cares about the pain;
to be Margarita is simply not allowed.
Your thick black hair burned off your forehead,
the men are swarming all around you;
to be Margarita is simply not allowed,
you are the eternal Love Goddess now.
The men are swarming all around you
but still you dance and dance and dance,
you are the eternal Love Goddess now—
Gilda, vixen, pinup, princess, drunkard, whore.
But still you dance and dance and dance,
a whirling joyous dream of grace,
Gilda, vixen, pinup, princess, drunkard, whore;
so many different versions of you now.
A whirling joyous dream of grace,
and suddenly everything has vanished.
So many different versions of you now,
but you have no idea who you are.
And suddenly everything has vanished.
No one knows or cares about the pain,
but you have no idea who you are,
and armies have marched over you.
BIO: Diane E. Dees, a regular contributor to Moondance
Columns, writes short stories, essays, political commentary and poetry in
Louisiana. She and her husband, Orvin Tobiason, are the webmasters of
princesscafe.com, the world's only
virtual rock and roll restaurant; Diane's blog is
dedspace.blogspot.com. Diane
has recent and forthcoming work in WordWrights, The Raven Chronicles,
Quality Women's Fiction and Manorborn. Email:
dianedees@charter.net
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by Diane E. Dees