Framing Magdalene

by Hattie Scott

Noli me tangere, was the title of the portrait

which provocatively posed

next to a sign that said ‘do not touch’,

the type of sign that makes you want to touch it.

I gazed up at the painting transfixed

by the urge to know its texture.

Would Titian want me to touch it?

Touched by it surely? She seems touched by him,

on the ground crawling as a creature

of desire in a perpetual state of longing,

so much so that her eyes don’t even follow me.

I feel an impulse to free her, erase her body from the glass

with one of those giant rubbers that say ‘FOR BIG MISTAKES’.

If only I could hold her hand, let her stand,

guide her from beneath the shade of that praying tree,

snake up the hill through the streets of Venice,

resurrect her barefoot in the markets so she could

exchange inconspicuous glances and be embraced by night

satiating the lust for the promise of angelic light.

After an endless stream of evenings, night could be disrobed.

Noli me tangere, Jesus glares down at me

as I touch the glass and, as if by miracle,

I feel Magdalene tap my back.

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