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Claudel's Hands
by Stephen Mead

She refused for once:
this fist, that,
a forever stance:
fingers curled
into the palms,
fingers delicate as plaster
& as marble strong:
the jade of clay
hidden as a secret
where the folds
turned further up
as though pressed
against a knob
to shut some door
quite tightly
& then place
her back there:
the fury of genius
returned to tenderness
before lifting skirts

& stepping on.


Click here to read about Camille Claudel.

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