Two Versions of Venus
What does it mean to reproduce Venus?
A Roman copy of a Greek original:
the sincerest form. A likeness of a likeness,
this Venus (like that) sits upon her heel,
her water jar overturned nearby. A dove calls
and goes still. Wings whirr. She looks up. Centuries
flow by her feet. Currents. She feels—
Here, she is the same, the same one twice,
her veins like rivers. And what is this place?
Whose hands are these? She reels
in the blood. Impulse. Instinct. To reproduce.
To pass her on. Duplicate, original.
The body is the question asking us,
The answer, the same moves, yes. Again. Yes.
– dana sonnenschein