On Seeing Alexander McQueen at the Met

In the hologram’s

Ghostly undulation,

A perfect body sheathed,

In ripped chiffon,

As if underwater,

Is elegance itself

Amid a darkness

Exuding from black leather,

Black feathers, black sheer.

As if a spark of life

Broke free, unmoored

From Atlantis,

A mannequin who’s sea

Of otherworldly,

Pearlescent buttons,

Seemed also,

Derived from

Moments of joy

And terror.

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