Diaper-smell, sweet rosewater-- out here, far from the sea, in a church where the sailors never go,
(the flies buzz on the altar, they land on the sacrifice, they feast)
she dances with scarves & swords, she gyrates & stares with ceramic eyes. Lady of the cloth, pale of skin & dark of hair, golden choker about her neck, red letter upon her breast,
(the flies baptize themselves against the meager sunlight)