In his wildest dreams
could Beardsley have conceived
of this blue    the blue
of her gown like cobalt
gone soft trying to blend in
with the hydrangeas behind her?
She walks among them
her bobbed hair with its straight
bangs the color of sun
struggling through fog.
Her porcelain face looks over
her thin shoulder     wary     imperious—
she has not invited the viewer
to come closer but she makes them
want to.  

~inspired by a photograph of a model dressed and posing like an Aubrey Beardsley illustration