It was inevitable--the weekly f-up. Fixed, discard the earlier.
> THE GLANCE
> (after "Girl With a Pearl Earring," J. Vermeer, Delft, c. 1666)
>
> Don't look at me like that,
> slightly parted lips,
> the "c'mere and fuck me" look.
> Quite mad to find you,
> centuries dead, an object of desire.
> Today in glitzy catalogues,
> in thinny-thin women
> tight jeans, halter tops,
> you have your inheritors,
> so much a falling-off.
>
> Your glance not surly or
> even a challenge,
> no pout, no moué,
> the glance perhaps
> unintended openness,
> a gift of spirit visible
> even through a starched headdress
> not white-virginal but of the world.
> Were you alive for him,
> were time and space compressed
> to Utrecht or to Delft,
> Jacob Van Eyck, blind to your loveliness,
> blinded by your beauty,
> still would walk through the churchyard,
> play you on his little flute,
> La Dolce Sirena.
>
> KTW/8-10-05
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