Still Life

In a Parisian museum,
a goddess sits
(or stands?)
on her pedestal
 
the curves of her bosom
sculpted by skilled hands
 
her skin smooth marble
abruptly rough
at the end of her thighs
 
where her creator decided
she would stop
sculpting.
 
Outside an Angolan supermarket
a man sits
(or stands?)
on the pavement
 
the contours of his torso
carved by years of combat
 
his sweat-stained skin
abruptly sutured together
at the end of his thighs
 
where the landmines decided
he should stop
Walking.