He told her that he designed with intent
to look disingenuous – after all, Machiavellian.
She nodded, let her gaze linger a moment,
licked her lips; he sighed.
Acrobatic swirls of fancy, intertwined
in the lattice between them; arabesque.
A couplet and a wine, vintage Elizabeth,
portrayed grander, yet conceived modestly.
I am still convinced by the heave of her bosom,
compelled by the breath of her air.
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 