You are mobile sculpture,
but you hang together way better
than those wire and cutout shape
arrangements they used to call that.
You are marrow-deep armature
of truth, you are blood hot love
and sleek warm rose milk creamy
skin in blush of youth, in beauty's
wise experience - such shape and
swell and form within! Without
no clothes.
Or with
no clothes, which
is a nice touch either
way. And you move,
and you move me oh,
so much.
If statues could be
so beautiful as this, so
moving as this, we'd have
to take them down from
their pedestals, and
put clothes on them.
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