Polished Woman

The paint is going;
oil, flowing;
and the soul,
billowing from the body.

Ten words
shot at the woman-
daughter, breasts, veil, book,
marry, carry, weary, cook,
look, life.
She thinks.

Twenty angles
to the same question-
fertility, futility.

At thirty,
the paint is going.
As if, life is winnowing
the woman from the body.