Hey, John Keats

River Goddess, India, 8th-9th century, Berkeley Art Museum

They can knock off your nose
 lose your makara, your tortoise,
  but they cannot undo the curve of the Yamuna in your hips,

Or the globes of the world, two worlds
 that are your breasts, and the Ganges of beads 
  running between them.  

Your children are silent and moving with you.

Oh, John Keats, I am here to tell you,
 you should see what she keeps in her red sandstone urn.