Musee du Louvre

[ Musee du Louvre ]

My hands are Parian Marble called Venus de Milo
yes it's exquisite I am never
promising some nebulous
harangue de Caprice

It will be like the strain of an orchestral
you will twitch at our long history
                                      you
                                      try and seize my voice un-
                                                               hanging
Perhaps
you the endless unwrapping and babbling
have found a huge mirror behindme reflecting lost
                                                      oil'd
hyacinths

Perhaps
in the year of great Italian art
your sluicegates open
as my hands unmoor a temple to no god
* * * * *