Venus, on a fur

There is this alabaster elbow,
Curling on the nameless letter
Into a much too uttered name,
Gilding a handful of words,
Worn behind that rib of Adam
That misses its maker in the rest
Of the harrowed bones of content.
My foul mouth flings at your wicked eyes,
Before pouting into resilience –
You look puzzled into the geography
Of the flesh that speaks under your palms
And then slowly shapes into a Venus,
Before the familiar eyes of a quiet Mars.

Witty Fay is a translator by trade and a humanist by nature. She has been writing herself into her poems for some time into the virtual world at Destiny Poets, Writers Cafe, Poetry Soup, Indiana Voice journal, Screech owl, Ink sweat and tears, Every Writers Resource and Verse Wrights . Also, she proudly had her bilingual volume of poetry, Nefelibata (Brian Brixon Books, 2014), published and she is aiming at unraveling prose. Wearing the many hats of the aspiring poet/writer, she draws inspiration from the people she meets, the places she travels, and the books she reads.

Last updated May 21, 2015