By Each Her Vanity

Michelle Tang Jackson

Call me Gloriana,
She who lives untouched
But by the brush.
Puts on her virgin mask
With a morning offering to God—

Honeyed milk shivers in a golden bowl,
Lily petals like cathedral windows,
Two packets of powder—
Crushed pearls and the jawbone of a lamb
Transformed to ageless dust.

Across the Thames,
Over the bridge marked by traitorous heads,
Beyond the bear-tearing sounds
Is a man in a silver-threaded gown, running lines
Over his face with a blade
And crying with one corseted breath:
“O swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”

And each dips a brush in plaster and prayers,
Make me young and beautiful.
Make them call out my name.
Make me a wall so they cannot break through.
With my man’s heart,
Make me into the most beautiful woman.