Spectre of sex appeal

The Spectre of sex appeal by Salvador Dali 1934 On the right-hand bottom side, we see Dalí as a child, dressed as a sailor, observing his monstrosity I misunderstand, tell what is the plan As I change from juvenile into man Her formation intrigues and repulses Instead of control, there are impulses Her head morphs upon a backdrop mountain Sack cloth breasts, stem flow of sandy fountains Solid rock womb, born of imperfection The spectre miscarries, sans reflection Propped up and falls forward in painful lurch Composite pieces, on acceptance search Ossified limbs, mangled bone skewers stone Destined to experience life alone She poses in pain and reeks of decay I stand with a hoop, brought along to play Ignores my advances, falling apart I’ll return with barbed wire to bind her heart No more cushioned stumps or flailing crutches Unraveling her knots, where flesh touches I’ll fashion a cross and burial mound Existence fades as parts crash to the ground Parts don’t stay buried, so I light a fire Warm them back up, on a funeral pyre My god she’s beautiful, I’m overcome We join together in flames, curse undone