Her Geography

The banks of her chest elongate,
So her shoulders may operate
such cresting limbs pulling strings,
Some long to manipulate so they sing
the majestic ways of her lovely pride.
This glorious vessel invoking other times,
Possessed by an Amazonian cult
a man shares in his hermit's cell;
The straw beneath his feet, his beggar's bowl,
What can he expect in his ascetic discipline?
What little favour she might do
out of sympathy, or vanity or generosity
to touch his fingers to the core
at the centre of his universe.