Aug 262011
 
 
She stood in her summer arsonage, complete; 
Her arms shoved beauty to the brink. 
In the rapt child-sway of her body blessed, 
She liked to watch it totter. 
 
Allocate of praise, alone in lividness,
Her Cleopatra charms derange a face 
Made numberless, the legion losses 
Summer and moonlight conspire to take 
 
In the shrill seconds preceding birth, 
Blazing awkward apt adjectives of light, 
Explosions of burnt rose, blasphemies of sight: 
Her embarrassed breasts consoled a sigh. 

With bicycle moods of syllables, wise
Soft sofa ministries of age displayed,--- 
The scrubbed violation of too many hands 
Already resting after 
 
The aching dilation of too many years.
Opinionless as steam in vapor rage  
The undiluted, vast minions of grey age 
Remain and inculcated the glass world's verdure. 

O mirror-girl who swam with me! 
Your otter plash alarms, quelled seemings, balms
No untethered slash of wind will solve 
With treasured fingers, knives of burnt cellophane, 
Remain to dissipate 

The slight indignations under fiber lies that
Display and disingenuate 
The twenty mobile armistices of face 
In alcohol alacrities of soul. You blinked 
 
There, in antechamber emptiness of air,
By a blank slant sea 
Shelving its green shoals in coral fashion 
Against the petticoat interiors of railroad stations: 
The lazy, shoved accoutrements of waiting. 
 
We were everywhere at once, one summer.
Her working woman's apple-soul 
Daunts momentously the unworked opinions of stars
---Daunts in a moment's unmaking 
The slipped and gradual symmetry of stars. 
 
white velvet siftings of the filter moon 
Slept in lonely pages of the leaves; 
Sister swelter of the sapphire sun forgot, they became 
The downward shaft and symbol of desire. 


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