(A Hollywood Park Poem)

Shall I paint the night sky
Neon indigo
And her sequin dress
That catches light
Cobalt blue and glows
With what seems
Some inner luminescence
That sets her ass to shimmer
And makes her breasts gleam
As if she were wearing nothing
But fish scales on her skin
Shall I paint her movement
Accentuated by a trembling
Like aspen leaves
On an August evening
That dance choreographed
In sunset colors and
Grow toward darkness
If I should see her dress
Strewn carelessly across the floor
It would look only like a blue gill
Washed up on the beach