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Leda looks back over her shoulder at us as the swan
grips her from behind while at the same time nipping at
the nape of her neck. She's a freckled child and
a little frightened. There's a dark smudge beneath her eye
where the shadow runs. The swan
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It's the outrage of the red monkey at her feet,
And the nude thirteen-year-old woman sitting upright
In the blue velvet chair, and the hints of blue at her navel,
And at her lips and belly and crotch, that so upset Paris.
Gauguin had his nerve
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