Please Do Not Touch
Barbara Hepworth, Talisman II, 1960
white marble, Ashmolean Museum
I read the boldface admonition
before I see the marble piece itself;
its cowering corner placement obstructs
the abstract form’s back and side, and hides
the third dimension. Still, the satin sheen
draws me close, closer, within easy reach
of cool and smooth forbidden skin.
Suddenly this talisman summons you –
magically, miraculously – here. The urge
to touch and caress is irresistible.
Imagining your secret garden in these curves,
I hear a voice like water, and smell
your wetness. The guard hovers nearby,
vigilant. Another time, another place.
Reprinted from Acumen 71,
© David Olsen 2011.
Reprinted from Octopus,
Templar Poetry, © David Olsen 2012.
Reprinted from Sailing to Atlantis,
Finishing Line Press, © David Olsen 2013.
Reprinted from Unfolding Origami,
Cinnamon Press, © David Olsen 2015.
Barbara Hepworth, Talisman II, 1960
white marble, Ashmolean Museum
I read the boldface admonition
before I see the marble piece itself;
its cowering corner placement obstructs
the abstract form’s back and side, and hides
the third dimension. Still, the satin sheen
draws me close, closer, within easy reach
of cool and smooth forbidden skin.
Suddenly this talisman summons you –
magically, miraculously – here. The urge
to touch and caress is irresistible.
Imagining your secret garden in these curves,
I hear a voice like water, and smell
your wetness. The guard hovers nearby,
vigilant. Another time, another place.
Reprinted from Acumen 71,
© David Olsen 2011.
Reprinted from Octopus,
Templar Poetry, © David Olsen 2012.
Reprinted from Sailing to Atlantis,
Finishing Line Press, © David Olsen 2013.
Reprinted from Unfolding Origami,
Cinnamon Press, © David Olsen 2015.
