adorned in rags
she was wearing her blue summer dress when I saw her at
the market. she touched the peaches, & seemed to regret
leaving them. she took some vegetables & a loaf of Greek
artisan bread in her basket. I bought the peaches & followed
her to her cottage, with the fruit as a dowry of introduction.
when we ate at the café, she wore sandals, denim shorts,
faded, & a blue shirt with a flair of picasso’d stains, red &
yellow & white, from her painting.
through the loneliness of her days, she is clothed in the memories
of hasty affairs, the goodbyes of war-bound soldiers, & sailors to an
angry sea, the abandonment of old lovers, & Dickinson verses of
the heart’s sorrow. these are the tatters that conceal her: sarongs &
veils. the scents of the garden perfume her hair & shoulders.
when I took her to waltz at the Terrace, she did not have proper
attire, so the night gave her a sequined gown made of its own
beauty, crystal earrings & necklace infused with moonlight;
and she was full of stars.
and when she loved me, she was nude…
(Art: Ed Ross)