Frozen face, with sandstone breasts
Did the muscles of dock workers
Lifting you to ship
Stir your desire?
Hardboard, straw and centuries
Stand between you and them Inert, you rode
The crest of waves
To the lights of New York
No glitter in your
Dreaming eyes
Or sharp intake of breath
Forever you bewitch
Never yourself fulfilled
Break the menagerie of glass
Yakshi, beloved dancing girl
Sound your ancient anklets
On the asphalt freeways
And in your moulded lap
Gather a harvest of lust.