We never knew the epic head of sight
wherein the round eyes ripened. Even so
his torso still glows like a gas streetlight
in which his gaze has merely been turned low,

and holds agleam. If not, then the breast's bare
curve could not dazzle you, nor could the loin
swerve a smile down toward that center where
begetting was begotten at the groin.

If not, this stone would stand cut short with strife
and maimed beneath the shoulders’ clear cut case,
and would not shimmer like a wild beast's fur,

and would not burst forth like a blazing star
from all its boundaries: for there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.