|
Forty-five finds
pleasure in her heart,
Out of which she fashions her designs.
Richness is entirely within,
The mirror of the mirror of her art.
Yet what she wants is less than what she
finds.
For her there is no border
at the skin.
Infinite, she dwells within her signs,
Vista of the face behind the lines,
Equally the actor and the part.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
Subscribe to this site on Substack
Subscribe to this site on YouTube
Subscribe to this site on Medium
Follow this site on Facebook
Follow this site on Instagram
|