Portrait Of A Lady


Your thighs are appletrees
Whose blossoms touch the sky.
Which sky? The sky
Where Watteau hung a lady’s
Slipper. Your knees
Are a southern breeze-or
A gust of snow. Agh! what
Sort of man was Fragonard?
-As if that answered
Anything.-Ah, yes. Below
The knees, since the tune
Drops that way, it is
One of those white summer days,
The tall grass of your ankles
Flickers upon the shore-
Which shore?-
The sand clings to my lips-
Which shore?
Agh, petals maybe. How
Should I know?
Which shore? Which shore?
-the petals from some hidden
Appletree-Which shore?
I said petals from an appletree.


1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

Portrait Of A Lady