Leza Cantoral: You Never Die, Do You?

a series of images to convince you that she is dead

for marilyn

a series of images that show her naked body in various poses

back when she was in the movies.

some candids,

outtakes,

the ones that did not make the cut,

the ones with a big red X drawn across them

in red marker—

her way to X out her imperfect selves.

this is a movie

you are watching it

it is old scratched film

super 8

film

you are drinking

you are drunk

you don’t know why you are watching this.

her eyes seem very alive,

bright black in that projector glow.

she is in a scene with other people—

mostly men,

but some women.

there are a lot of bodies,

but it is somehow difficult to make her out,

between the flesh & the ropes & the whips & the dogs,

but then you start to recognize her body parts.

cut to a morgue

and she looks different.

her face—

deflated.

dimples gone,

skin pale,

more pale even than before.

back to the glamour shots—

early ones, from before she was famous,

before she bleached her hair

&

became the movie star.

full bush,

scared but bold eyes,

a smile to hide the pain.

you think if you had loved her,

if you had known her,

you would have saved,

protected her.

but really, how?

what was her alienation that wrapped her up

like a thousand scarves,

pulling & pushing her from intimacy,

holding her body as a shield

between herself

& anyone

absolutely anyone,

because it hurts more to be hurt again,

than to be alone,

with familiar wounds.

you still can’t believe

she is dead tho.

dead baby

when you said you would stay

when you said you didn’t want

more of you in the world

when you said get rid of it

when I said but it would have your eyes

&

I saw the lifeline cut short

in your white shirt

in the moonlight

making me love you

so that you could fill me

&

leave me

when you drunk dialed me

&

I drove for an hour

to feel your touch,

you drank too much

&

I felt it

I knew it was happening

&

I wanted it

a heart breaks every day,

my heart broke three times with you

third time’s the charm

ghost baby

gloom baby

gloomy baby

my dead baby

haunts me

I painted portraits

in blue—

a suffocated baby

a drowned baby

a nightmare baby

visiting me

in the shape of a cat

in the shape of a dog

in the shape of anything but

the body it would have had

vampire baby

eating my soul

you never die,

do you?

you live in me

in my phantom womb.

every time I bleed

I hear you scream

sand sigils

by the shore

making circles in the sand

as children play

in the froth

laughing

jumping

& i

wanting

wondering

asking

touching the earth

deeper

her wet sand

in circles

can I make her

wetter

can I make her

want

what I want

making sigils

making love

to the particles

of broken rock

forever breaking

forever wanting

forever

wetting

as the waves

crash

harder & higher

as the tide rises

& rises

till it engulfs her

& me

& all of us

forever

Leza Cantoral is a Xicana writer & editor who lives on the internet. She is the Editor in Chief of CLASH Books & host of the Get Lit With Leza podcast where she talks to cool ass writers. Tragedy Queens: Stories Inspired by Lana Del Rey & Sylvia Plath is a CLASH Books anthology of stories that she edited as a result of being a Lana Del Rey & Sylvia Plath megafan.