I was a maiden first. Of crinoline And electric green, My gown. Then you came, Choice monsieur, With red eyes And heavy hands. The days broke open Like glass Like cymbals Like mirrors crashed. The days broke open. Like summer rolled over on his back, Open-mouthed with sleep, You came. In the hay, in the day, Heavily, heavily. Such hands, monsieur. And my gown Felt velvet, Grew red.