Leather

It’s the light " the way
it shines through the windows
and coats the walls.  It’s the wooden
floors " worthy of tears, we forgot
how the wood were once trees with roots
and tendrils and virgins.  It’s the other bodies
around the room" white, ivory, burgundy, brown,
with their white long bones and bare feet worn
by bark-like callus and leather shoes.
It’s Debussy " pray we not forget his name,
Romantic and hushed behind a solemn beard
and the birchwood barre. Lest we forget to acknowledge
the doubt of our hips or tendons, for Achilles never meant to harm
us all. The Lord died for each and every sin. We are all virgins,
simple mathematicians, bleating a new lamb's song.