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11/03/2019

What's in There.

With his fingers, one lonely man
made a perfect, nude, stone sculpture.

A single woman penned a lofty book,
one about a shy, misunderstood

monster, a recluse who was half
machine. How could we ever

forget. Others wrote elusive songs,
poems, naked stories, and yes,

bibles and speeches. Soliloquies.
Still today, each moment, the world

falls in love with Marilyn Monroe.
How we all want to somehow

describe what's in there. We wake,
and we feel the ache, the relentless

pull in the center of the blood.
And here I am, going at it again,

trying to express what lies inside
my deep, my heart, but like the rest,

I'll never quite reach. I'm sure you
already know.

C.A. MacConnell