Like the Heavens mesh
when cast on the face of the deep
that, numberless, teems with life,
the yin is coupling with the yang,
like a shroud with eyes wide
open, that so tightly latch on
all they see and lean to grasp,
la gloire de l’âme chez les femmes
conceives l’éclat du dessin:
“What is better — to see or
to seek being seen
and, in that masque and mesh —
rolled and fixed,
to clear — to net — those
prying eyes — like sequins
on peacock widespread plumes?”
Yet does it matter how many
of these have been gleaned?
Or whether any — of those
who come by —
is of gilding-filigreed damask,
a calligraphic thread for life,
after life even for another life,
ask the eyes entwined,
those ones that care & think —
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