Grasping at Cupids
and
pixie wings
the furs
of Venus
lay in tatters
on the edge of the stairs
near the
vesper balcony
colliding with a
wave
of news
and sorrowful plagiarism
bent to the task
at hand
and cornering
the
blood of Christ
with a winsome sense of
clear denial
and expensively frocked
there were no women about