i.
Pubic tufts, thyme & moss, are greening
 again in the clefts of the wall

latticed by the first flails of warm, late winter,
 and so she removes her shirt

to walk in the garden. Drowsy wasps.
 Velvet, verdigris fontanels

of narcissus, tulip, grape hyacinth
 crown at her toes. She looks down,

face obscured by gauze swagging
 the brim of a wide, straw hat.

Over her left breast, an emerald scar.
 Ink pours from her right,

& in her hand, a heart-shaped stone she carries
 snags the cumulous silks of her skirt.