She Is Ineffable

A Cafe is breathing heavily; attended
By elven baristas, fully illustrated.
Tamping espresso.
Baguettes soften canary yellow berets -
Worn at a rakish angle, like a fascinator
At The Preakness. 
Ethiopian fumes barricade the open door
Against the effluvium of the morning -
Commute… like tying a kite
To a black truffle. With a blade -
of grass.
My hands fold space into a sweat lodge
Like the scaffolding of a forgotten prayer.
My chin planted at the zenith
Admiring the anatomy 
Of an abandoned 
Fist.
On the outskirts of a mocha.
She is ineffable. With gamine eyes -
Churning sunlight into green coins shimmering
In tandem. Like koi in a pond. 
Her summer dress, a diaphanous affair.
Accentuating the curvature of her 
Natural mischief. Clinging to peaks and valleys
As they sway in obedience 
To hidden music… poised.
In a state of perpetual
Goddess.
She glides… as I covet. Preaching to the choir
In my ribcage. My eyes caressing the parentheses 
Of her stride. She is ineffable.
Words fail as they are want to do
In the presence of effortless elan’. She is cloaked
By her own reality. Like an undertow
Stuck to the heel 
Of her shoe.
With nothing to prove.