Antique

Gracious child of Pan! Around your brow, crowned

by tiny flowers and berries, your eyes - precious

globes - stir. Stained by brown dregs, your

cheeks are hollowed. Your fangs glisten. Your bosom

resembles a zither, its chiming spreading about

in your fair arms. Your heart beats in that belly

where the double sex sleeps. Walk in the night,

moving gently this thigh, that other

thigh, and that left leg.