Woman Leaving the Psychoanalyst,
by Remedios Varo, 1960
Is it dirty?
It is soft
vibration hovering
between constellation and alleyway
It is milky
glow roll
over lip of wall and through
howl of scowl, swish
through greening folds right down
to the pinch
of severance
It is whisper-webbed
trill of aria
It is everything
you ever held gummed
to your hand as
you tried to let go
Oh yes it is
now drop it in