<\/p>\n
Mary napping in grass by the sea;<\/em> I<\/p>\n My Pisan moon grew II<\/p>\n When I scanned the scraping branch, III<\/p>\n Words that I wrote saw nothing, IV<\/p>\n Songs of tired men rose from the river V<\/p>\n Inland gulls brought the hour dawn began, VI<\/p>\n As I tapped the coals of that night A Room in Pisa, 1820 Mary napping in grass by the sea; a small sealed box under one hand I My Pisan moon grew in night-shadows on the wall as the dually-sired girl I was sat wryly open-thighed, exposing my eager whitened cleft, done with the dark red drop […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":760,"parent":229,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-232","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/232","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=232"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/232\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":693,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/232\/revisions\/693"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/229"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/760"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue13\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=232"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\na small sealed box under one hand<\/em><\/p>\n
\nin night-shadows on the wall
\nas the dually-sired girl I was
\nsat wryly open-thighed,
\nexposing my eager whitened cleft,
\ndone with the dark red drop
\nfound on the chair, by the fingers
\nI knew I needed to taste.<\/p>\n
\nslowly tasting my inner time,
\nthe open breath-dressed window
\nheld the pleasant glowing room,
\nwhile the night taught the mind
\nhow to recall each nail’s creak.
\nNo woman knew those rare notes
\nas she, that Mary, enlivened by quiet.<\/p>\n
\nmy favourite dress back in place
\non the cool floor where two feet touched:
\nCasa Frassi, a new home for that room,
\nwhere our circle rested above the Arno
\n& I saw Exile in a corner with webs,
\nelated, crouched by the keyhole’s crest
\nmy finger traced after each noon rang.<\/p>\n
\nto swirl within the wind of night,
\nas the blonde curtains shared both
\nI knew chuckle & cheer, unlike any
\nother moments my image was insignia
\nfor the mirror finally less fulgent,
\nthe sable face stoked by a smile
\ngrown fitful, alone like a fire.<\/p>\n
\nwings full, as night left for the light
\nold tales tried to describe–one ray
\nclaimed the one clean pane–a portal
\nI kept for the sun, my eyes, the game
\nmy finger’s shadow
\nin that bright circle on the bed.
\nOne brief joy I craved in private.<\/p>\n
\nthe scalding poker caught the grate,
\na freak instant in the manner of music
\ncaressed my receptive palm, loudly,
\nactive while the room held a height
\nthe keen day kindly fell from,
\na cue to undress in the new heat,
\nstand bare, marvelled by a mood’s rite.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"