Волхв

Chapter 62

           Shewaslyingagainstamoundofpillows,deepgold,amber,rose,maroon,themselvespiledagainstanornategiltandcarvedheadboard.ShewasturnedsidewaystowardsmeinadeliberateimitationofGoya’sMajaDesnuda.Herhandsbehindherhead,hernakednessoffered.Notflaunted,butoffered,statedasadivineandimmemorialfact.Abarearmpit,assexualasaloin.Nipplesthecolorofcornelians,asiftheyaloneinallthatcream-whiteskinhadbeen,orcouldbe,bittenandbruised.Thetaperingcurves,thighs,ankles,smallbarefeet.Andthelevel,unmovingeyesstaringwithakindofarrogantcalmintotheshadowswhereIhung.Beyondher,ontherearwall,hadbeenpaintedanarcadeofslenderwhitearches.IthoughtatfirstthattheyweremeanttorepresentBourani;buttheyweretoonarrow,andhadslenderMoorish-ogivetops.Goya…theAlhambra?Irealizedthecouchwasnotlegless,butthatthefarendoftheroomwasonaslightlylowerlevel,ratherlikeaRomanbath.Thecurtainshadconcealedfurtherstepsdown.Thegleamingbodylayinitsgreenish-tawnylakeoflight,withoutmovement;andshestaredatmeasfromacanvas.ThetableauposewasheldsolongthatIbegantothinkthiswasthegreatfinale;thislivingpainting,thisnakedenigma,thisforeverunattainable.IhadassumeditwasLily,butIcouldnotseethescar,andIbegantowaver.ItwasLily;itwasRose;thenLilyagain.Minutespassed.Thelovelybodylayinitsmystery.

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