The ridiculous shape(s),
side by side
, repeat either
edge of the vagina’s precise mirror

arms her out to some lover
Follicle’d above
& slipped brush
the along goes wristbones

to finger over knees if
palely thimble’d
the hand is
fragile in its twenty-seven parts

& Peace we the thighs
curve high &
sleep in cumulus
cottons that frill around soft ends
(
Thinking nope of sleep
, enough for me
to leap, leapt & match
photo those thighs of her).