Can you laugh like Marilyn?

No, her laugh is less of a sound
and more of a visual something
you remember in retrospect, more
of a hollow bulge of sun, a
billowing neon rock that when heard
is expansive, but you know
from memory there’s nothing
inside?

That’s why I can’t laugh like her.
It’s full of light
and I’m made of soil and
lawnmower clippings.

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