I saw you as Ophelia in Hamlet.
You were the best actor in the play.
When you laughed, I believed you were happy.
When you died, well, I guess I knew you were alive
still. Not to say you didn’t play a perfect corpse;
you were phenomenal. But the Laertes didn’t sell me,
and your Hamlet wasn’t nearly sulky enough.
Did you get me into ghost-girls, or was I always this spooky?
Anyway, Shakespeare puts me in a holy state. Like, I can relate
to it all, even a confused rich girl with her heart set on a prince.
I feel like an angel and a tart. When I watch you I want to wash, rinse,