Self Portrait Of The Writer As Claude Cahun: A Poem
By Rowan Carteret
O Claude, O Claude
Elle est, il est-
I hold your mask up to my face
And laugh behind motionless lips
I think I should take a leaf from your book
And hide my heart on the rise
of my cheeks, surfing a white wave of bone
Parallel to kiss-curls.
My eyes are all you can see,
Bringing life to a face of plaster
With the same dark humour that lit yours.
I speak prayers into the void and flash of a camera lens,
Dedications tor the shadow that hovers
in the edge of the frame.
I will find her, I swear,
I will hang the mask on a coat hook
And I will make her my life and canvas
And walk the fluid footsteps
You left in the St Brelade sand-
Elle est surréaliste,