I don't think so. Read on dear reader...

A Leisure Centre is Also a Temple of Learning by Sue Boyle

The honey coloured girl in the women's changing room
is absorbed in making her body more beautiful:
she has flexed and toned every muscle with a morning swim
and showered away the pool chemicals
using an aromatic scrub and a gentle exfoliant.

Lithe as a young leopard, she has perfect bone structure;
her breasts mound as though sculptured from sand by a warm wind;
her secret cleft is shaved as neatly as a charlatan's moustache.

In dreamy abstractedness she applies cream,
then spray perfumes every part that might be loved.
Her long hands move in rhythm like a weaver's at a loom -
tipped throat, underchin, the little kisspoints below her ears
the nuzzle between her breasts, her willow thighs.

Her head tilted like a listening bird
she brushes her hair so whistle clean it is like a waterfall.

A bee could sip her.
She is summer cream slipped over raspberries
She is so much younder than the rest of us -

she should look around.

We twelve are the chorus:

we know what happens next.