Hollywood

There, like splattered ink
staining fine linen
scarlet dots emerged
forming a sea beneath her.

I felt against me
the final movement
and heard the balloon burst
of the final breath.

They called her Hollywood.
Such theatrics escaped her -
overly done, but honest emotion.
My motive for breathing.

Watching her from the window
as she left the car
parked too far away,
I saw them - dueling guns,

And I ran screaming
for my child to move away.
And they ran, cowards, children
playing with adult toys.