A body
belly-up
floats –
pale yellow slick
gilt edged against
black waters
limbs bob
fan out unfold
a birthday suit
stretched naked
somewhere
between
sadness
and disgust
unsprung
it tickles
edges of
before
and after
a wave
of wind
curls
dreaming
ignores it
ruffles
past
an infinity
of hedges
the slimy thing
too silly
to bother
with its
lack of elegance
an ironic prince
to your pirouettes