It's unnatural not to desire
those silk shoes, indigo blue
and so delicate they're translucent,
laced with gold, with toes
like swans' bills. Who looks at this painting
and wants the moral lesson
the naked disciple's receiving?
You should see how those shoes match her dress
(put off on the floor, presumably
confiscated by that stupid angel).
2 comments:
I'm happily, absently drooling on the floor, like the first time I had really, really good licorice.
I know Daniel, but did you like my poem?
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