6. Upon her dress she has a body

Woman’s body is as bumpy as my skull
Glorious
If you become flesh with spirit

Couturiers ply a sottish trade
As much as phrenology
My eyes are kilos weighing women’s sensuality

All that flees, sallies forth into depth
Stars hollow out the sky
Colors disrobe

“Upon her dress she has a body”

Under her arms heathers hands lunulæ and pistils when waters

pour out in her back with glaucous shoulder blades
Her belly a disk that moves
The double hull of her breasts passes under the bridge of

rainbows

Belly
Disk
Sun
The perpendicular cries of colors fall upon her thighs

“Sword of Saint Michael”

There are hands held out

There are in her train the beast all eyes all fanfares all habitués

of Bullier’s Ballroom
And upon her hip
The signature of the poet

February 1914.