Most private movement, the arms raised

To fix the bun on top of the head,

Most dainty, most personal moment

Can only complement

The sleekness of drapery upon the thighs 

Covered by it: Is it wet 

Or just the sheen of fabric? The streaks 

Of highlight, the folds 

And deepest shadow hide or reveal 

The bended knee, the unseen small feet: 

What attention 

Did the artist give in quick strokes, 

To disguise the bare flesh 

Of upper torso, the casual glimpse

Of nipple and breast, the intimate armpit?

And then the pert nose and pursed lips, 

The glance, perhaps shy, 

A tad defiant,  all heedless like that of a marble 

Goddess, but skin-soft 

And breathing―and the hair, not a single 

Strand or wisp loose, but all held in place

By the tight bun on top of the head.

 

 

Marne Kilates

18 January 2022