all is not lost,
                        however lost you look,
your uncombed hair
                          a budding sun,
your veil lyrically
                           transparent dew,
your body seductively
                             visible,
as it was
             when its perfection
tempted Adam to sin.
                            or are you Leda
awaiting the swan
                         from animal heaven,
obscene with enigma?
                            you've lost your virginity
too many times to be spring,
                                    however often
it is renewed
                 by naive nature.