Someday I will know you, without words I will recognize
the swath of life you cut; you, beguiled in form,
charm an impression eternal, conjure sibilant prayer,
the whisper of vespers, billowy puffs aromatic arise
at the touch, the long run of smoothed legs

I lose myself behind closed eyes,
the small of your ankle bone against
the hollow of my cheek, in roaming worship
I will explore all you purport to be

Chagall 2019