I MISTOOK THE FUR FOR SCRATCHES
The risk of admiring at a distance,
when the distance is death.
Flesh left as negative,
or photographic print,
the body revenant from walls
in the house in Providence.
Francesca Woodman, her limbs
antipodal behind a line of hanging fox furs
obscuring her sex, recalls
Gauguin's sumptuous image of a canine paw
consoling the naked female
dreaming in his The Loss of Virginity.
But at first,
I mistook the furs for scratches
like those E.J. Bellocq made on his turn-of-the-century photographs
to conceal the identities
of the women in brothels
of the Storyville section of New Orleans.
Eluding every intrusive gaze, her genius,
a gauze, protected her.
Then the gods
The American Journal of Print, Conspire, The Drunken Boat, Evergreen Review, Frank, In Posse Review, Janus Head, The Literary Review, Recursive Angel, Small Spiral Notebook, Stirring, etc.
Ardors, Lover, Is Exile?, Of DC, This Vanishing Architecture, Brief History of Erotic Gesture
Current | Previous
Submit | Editors
Join | Donate
Links | Contact