Mrs. Arnolfini
Emily Brown
My lover, yoked in furs
Choked in feathers. I have learned
I’ve inferred: he’s not for you, he is for me
I stand, hand outstretched
Ropes of metal around my neck
I’ve been led to expect he is for me
We’re here with our dog
He and the painter are talking shop
Hope he catches the fall of the cloth
The shade of green
My lover, here with me
One hand blessing, one outreached
I can see: he is for me, he is for me