Mirror-Lake

After Leda and the Swan

She’s
Lashes; tail-flicking
Cashing-in on the cock
of a swan-head – a bill in her direction
malted teaser, he sees her
and takes; plucks her
clean

She’s
Crossed; he came
Across a lost child, prayers
Skirting her lips in rich O’s, unknows
The stark revere of the flinch
Of crossed legs. Biting,
Her necklace
Snaps