Midnight bells to boom & still
the frayed maid sucking up to the moon,
that nefarious stepmum, a fossil
in limbo, sexually frustrated & envious me youth,
nonetheless stunning. (After all,
she is a woman too.) & I am mirrored in her face
alone & sublunary as I am installed
in this glossy rectangular space:
The Alps, phlegmatic & fuliginous
as death, a comely myth this. No prince to smack
my mouth betimes with sublime superficial kiss
or force glass shoe. White flag in wrack,
bent in beam, I scribe to you. Anyone this.
I, my bony ...