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HER
Goya's Mariana Waldstein
we shall bound up Her

hair silver & gold

strands of suspicions

snakes gliding along green

grass, parting the hair
like turquoise currents of a hidden

stream gladly we'll part

Her hair

while all the cool musics of

pantomimes of musings sound in
the unacquainted distances

we will inquire the trembling
movements of the winds in

fashion combing so softly Her

hair as we must all following
the sunset urgent

into bowers & terraces
sitting with marbled
stone statues reclining

upon the perfumed shades
gaudy with moonlight

trickling down hair starkest
shadows we'll take down

Her hair

which had been
hanging from all
the pavilions

Puvis de Chavannes's Girls At The Seaside
while balancing footsteps

traced their way
into Her heart within

mandolin speed stripping imperturbable

warmth all in Her blouse Her
hair catching upon the wind blowing
heaviest boulders hitting
the bottom of her sandiest forever

Sea settling deeper & deeper
into an ultimate sort of storm

Her hair fresh jungles lapsing into
quietude as Her hair sinks
out of some different kind of a
delighting
        

     in delightful
Spring the slow dropping of centuries

down each situation's stairs
we shall bound up

Her hair once more &
kiss th'uncrinkling

billows of Sun-drenched
Death's prolific lilacs

moonlight dark blue, brown-gold Her
hair so flexible that

Life shall rage be-
neath the Beloved's cool fingers all

bounding Her

hair
Bouguereau's Birth of Venus

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