So adept her foiling the mesh like that
snared prolific beneath too many stories
nearly bad endings

Some torque at the hip wrenches her thrusts
she needs to invigorate tightening tendons
to stretch wider slowly, more lazy laterally

So all is forgiven though all is so lost
also and again yet again

I watch her in profile, breathlessly arced
above her off-shoulder, a continuum of rounded
embankment, her body cut luscious
arcades where we play bathed solely
high windows tint green
afternoon trees, warm breezes
the eve of special days

Chagall 2016