At first I snarl, snaking
In the dirt around your foot,
I wish to shoot up, lifting
My body from the soot
I coil up, all around you
Weaving shadows into your light
Your white, now brushed with my blue
Is no longer pure--not quite--
And as I reach, your neck to clutch
And lean in with a hiss
Your head floats off, now out of touch
So far out of my kiss
How can I reach your temple?
I can't, now I know
You are so high, so gentle
You tremble in the flow...
Here I imagine myself as a transparent snake rising up, one scale after another, one facet after another, around the paper sculpture I created some time ago. The sculpture is made of four parts:
- The foot at the bottom, which I shaped as an elegant, curvy pedestal
- The faceted design in the middle, which I created out of a single sheet of paper, with no cutting or glueing at all (merely by light scoring and hand pressure)
- The faceted 'neck', which I brought to a single point;
- And the crown on top, which I set afloat above that point.