Dance a strict measure, Castiglione,
of furs in the shadow of silver;
in the elegance of a pilfered
elegance, art and beauty drone
of an island where seasons never change.
Never my world, yet I learn
the diamond’s cool, addictive burn,
a foreign mistress, cold and strange.
After politesse, in fury’s bed,
manners couple with princely dread
(of the vulgar naked and the subtle dead).
Dancer in darkness, courting the worm,
the serving dish of fruit is stained;
your wit, your handsomeness, and your name.