Shapeshifty: A Poem for Méret Oppenheim
by Dr Nitoo Das

Things are shapes.

Stilettos become
                         white thighs
                                               spread
out and ready
and cups and spoons
          are curvy, fur-draped.

 Shapes s
                 w
                     i
                        n
                             g
take on lives
and sting.     Rayographs
become                        the I

I hide in blacks
and        whites
of hazy flesh,
but non-
       nymph lines. My

self a fable
leashed to a body of
girl
tree
man
table.