A Beauty Poem by nicky kelly

When you lower your shoulders
And suddendly refuse
To consent to a description -
For your body is the object

Waiting the whole thing
Comes back to the subject -
some lover sees you naked
as a look has you made;

of wounds no traces,
nothing about the suitable foam
made you about
a smooth marble shadow

but cashmere and lambswool
in the aerial mapping of a wardrobe
and chalk hands shoot arrows
at you. By your cover.

In this bare not to be
the fold will conformity suit
in coldness and warmth
a few words have not a flair for

- as do yours naturally -
fixing the weak island
to the coast. You, strong,
clash with all.