augenblick oder augenlicht oder augenbild or a dagger ready to bury

itself into lucretia by lucas cranach staatsgalerie stuttgart who could

see her otherwise when-never under the veil would gaze at the gaseous gauze the luftpuff

of the shawl trembling in tenuous vibrissas of air barely revealing total nudity head

of the shawl trembling in tenuous vibrissas of air barely revealing total nudity head

red curls apple-red cheeks a few shining golden rings dangling from

the coif the ivory of her forehead eyes half-open in death in ecstasy-rage

over vengeful death i never saw a dagger so elaborate a blade all knife all groove

and sharp right from its chiseled handle goldbronze inlays tawnier than the

usual burnish and the tawny halo against black ground and an oblique faint

landscape vanishing disappearing bluepinkgreenblack with red dots and in

total nudity under the lavish coif as if affixed suspended from the pearl choker

or from the shoulder pad of the shawl plaited over the shoulder blade the invisible glass

oshawl from cellophane threads you’d say if there had been cellophane back then fine waist

slim torso the breasts barely sketched with pink rosebuds the navel highlighted

small shell the evasive line of the right thigh raised over the left

small pinksmooth shell of twilight the navel conchiglia slight roundness of the

left thigh against black ground and the fold of the groin converging into a thread of

shadow into finest silkshadow down barely grazed by the gauzy gossamer

in a whirlwind stroke the thread of shadow flowing into a triple meeting of

shadows where life dims velvet tapestry barely visible life and the

dagger erect frozen sharp steel dormant death-rose la vie en rose the

rose-flush detained pre-death but you know medieval figures in street-corners

kiosks mantilla-shrouded nursenuns selling bibles go you know store windows

on every corner bibles in shop windows scrawled in gothic while street choirs

sing salvation grind salvation grüss'gott gretchen grüss'gott frau

doctor grüss'gott anna old ladies in hats like toadstools umbrella-shaped

in secret covens sipping tea tee mit zitronensaft water wine-tinted in

teacups turning red bags of ground tea leaves on strings hung in cups

all ready for the peaceful parliament of toadstools and old ladies fat

oldsters ancient old ones semi-old aging withered withering wrinkling

thin old fattening toadstoolcrones savoring apple tarts apfelkuchen

oozing filling like creamy tumors guten appetit and elsewhere

diane de poitiers reflected in her mirror a ruby in her haiddress a pearl at the

parting of the hair pearling an equally ivory brow her hair done up

greenblonde chiseled face tapering chinwards softly pointed arch of green

eyebrows the fine aquiline nose a half a hesitant perhaps an almost quasi

half-smile on her face lips surprised in a half-open kiss and the gossamer

shawl heavier this time graygold half-veiling shoulders and arms and nudity

greengold whirl nudity mature rose and aging her breast-goblets

erect nipples a string of pearls trickling between the breasts two fingers

fondling a pearl the other two a ring the mirror doubling the image but

this could be the book on the plinth two figures a fleshy copula in bronze