GOLDEN LOTUSES - 2

Thin and sinuous
as the magic rope.
Blonde and impetuous:
                                        dart and kite.
But also relentless, an icebreaking ship.
A girl's breasts, enameled eyes.
She'd danced on all the terraces and in all the boîtes,
had watched the sun set over San José, Costa Rica,
had slept at the feet of the Himalayas,
and in Africa had grown weary of savannahs and bars.
At twenty she left her husband
for a German woman;
at twenty-one she left the German
for an Afghan man;
at forty-five
she lives at Prosperine Court, int. 2, Bombay.
Each month, on the ritual days,
it rains frogs and snakes on her house,
the servants curse the she-demon,
and her Parsi lover puts out the fire.
Dry storm.
                      The white vulture
pecks at its shadow.