Nude Descending a Staircase

Toe after toe, a snowing flesh, a gold of lemon, root and rind, she sifts in sunlight down the stairs with nothing on. Nor on her mind. We spy beneath the banister a constant thresh of thigh on thigh; her lips imprint the swinging air that parts to let her parts go by. One-woman waterfall, she wears her slow descent like a long cape and pausing on the final stair, collects her motions into shape.