Magasins du Louvre

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Magasins du Louvre

All the virgin eyes in the world are made of glass

Long lines of boxes

Of dolls

Propped against banisters

Walls and pillars

Huddled on shelves

And composite babies with arms extended

Hang from the ceiling

Beckoning

Smiling

In a profound silence

Which the shop walker left trailing behind him

When he ambled to the further end of the gallery

To annoy the shop-girl

All the virgin eyes in the world are made of glass

They alone have the effrontery to

Stare through the human soul

Seeing nothing

Between parted fringes

One cocotte wears a bowler hat and a sham camellia

And one an iridescent boa

For there are two of them

Passing

And the solicitous mouth of one is straight

The other curved to a static smile

They see the dolls

And for a moment their eyes relax

To a flicker of elements unconditionally primeval

And now averted

Seek each otherвАЩs

surreptitiously

To know if the other has seen

While mine are inextricably entangled with the pattern of the carpet

As eyes are apt to be

In their shame

Having surprised a gesture that is ultimately intimate

All the virgin eyes in the world are made of glass.