Because no camera could capture it

scarcely as vivid as let’s say (ninety-nine) words
on the wall—: see
 
dowel cocked, snow-soft sweater string
drawn along lambent hummocks, the
kantha’s veins swoln ocherous, sinewy 
ticker-taped trim as an inchworm’s 
hoof prints chewn through giggled 
bouquets of nursery-pastel pansies,
sweater string, track marks, cross-hatched,
itching up Andean furrows of luminous
goosefoot, slack-jawed snare slipped 
teasing wrist flick, tug by
tug until burst from the 
sulfurous rug, her beans beat
seam-ripping ersatz sandstone’s
crow’s-footed lips—this lavish
excuse for a muppet caught
shredding the sheets to but
make of a sweater string what she must
make of the dewdrops dithering, 
nematode round, and yowling, cudding
a gaunt Kali into gutka.