Monday, September 12, 2011

31. Model-Girl

for my dearest T.D.

Each freckle sparks a new debate;
your measurements are public spectacle.
What hair and wardrobe can create
is this Immortal, some Olympian.

Removing trivial worldly flaws,
the Human sheds her life, becomes a doll,
a canvas – on which genius draws:
Dior, McQueen, Herrera, Calvin Klein.

Descended from unearthly lands,
gargantuan tresses mount the blazing skies;
ethereal gemstones kiss your hands –
the architecture wraps your painted corpse.

One day a limp and lifeless page –
another, stepping out into the world;
you walk from paper into cage,
transforming always – modern sorceress.

Aquarius in sunny May,
you walk, each gesture stillborn works of art.
A deity in every way:
the artist breathes her truest legacy.

2 comments:

  1. What a strange and wonderful rhyme scheme.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you for the strange and wonderful comment!

    ReplyDelete

One Art, to recognize, must be,
Another Art to Praise.

- Emily Dickinson