Thursday, May 15, 2014

Matisse, reworked

I Posed For Matisse

He uncoils me like a skein of yarn
Paying out behind beach glass lenses
That scour the remains of the day
For watery sifted light

Leads his hand along like a piper
Through Hamlin’s twisted streets
Spavined fingers confounded by buttons
Hale and nimble once again, fat

Bolt of graphite balanced loosely
Swanning about an empty
Dance floor to strains of a waltz
Played in some distant place

While my skin pools in goose flesh, my
Bobbin spun free, hip, breasts, neck
Described in a dearth of line, God struck mute
As I slip demurely behind the screen.

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