Give me your best archaic smile

the one that others think to understand
though truly mute

and private    since you know
whatever

we were    or are    or will be is not here
This is a likeness

reconstituted after shattering
A thing and a thing

standing in    for what’s

without beginning    or ending

only returning
without release
Steam does not escape but is condensed

eventually    and falls    and starts again
Yet see how our eyes are done    identical

familial    and general    the jewel’s

‘particular lustre’ lost
my feet so bound and laced and trussed

I must be up again and moving

no time to lose    eternity to keep
Your feet are bare    your terracotta flesh

is hairless    universal    just that single nipple
speaking death’s coldness    life’s arousal 
Likewise my hands are empty    what they held

ointment or object    is of no more use
Except to the gazer who by shape

and by gesture imagines us
As we are elsewhere

on the outside    uncontained


Notes:

In response to Sarcophagus of the Spouses, terracotta sculpture,

1.4m x 1.9m, late 6C BCE, National Etruscan Museum, Villa Giulia, Rome.