Elizabeth Willis, p.5


to lovers' houses, a womanly
counterpoint, the wall
of revels, plastic love,
a psychic wit, enter Eleanor.
Of watery religion, never
stammering, not a few
in dear necessity, virtue suffices.
Polidori to Siddal.
Speaking Emerson, not
of Emerson, plainly
the opposite of Dickens.
Her floors observe
the hardness of a letter
a pagan sheen
of worthless richness.
Within a house
of molten hair
a lover's cloud
'perhaps too late'
nursed to life
but a bauble
overlooking florence
a July afternoon
utterly perishing
a gaze at the vulgar
a brilliant taker
arrayed in poppies.