Butch

In photographs
you look like a teenaged boy,
but graven image stills your grace,
denies your charm,
hides your wicked wit
behind frozen smile.

Pictures do you no justice,
nor, I fear, can inarticulate verse.
my serpent mind's eye dresses you
like a musketeer,
in lavender velvet and lace
then undresses you,
and I die.

M. Anne Vespry
24 September 1988