Lady Capulet

a song

he had made
for her
toys
of wood,
bone,
glass.
a wheeled rabbit
on a string.

the whippet
she sat with
for the young artist
lies still
under the table,
belly an elegant
concave,
snapping up
scraps.

song 2

he gives me
carnelians and rubies.

i stepped on
a berry,
small, red, firm.
its inward flesh splayed
out
disarrayed
as a wordless
mouth.

song 3

i gave capulet
a body
its flesh
round and firm.
he got in it
a child
Juliet was her name.