Was the belvedere a rapture gate? Along in the rose pergola high above a terrace, I met a young woman climbing one last stair as if daring to in an act of surprise, and she turned toward me, so we looked below at the formal garden. Sunlight shone in our parapet afternoon.
Quiet, I turned to her and said: how beautiful, meaning how beautiful the garden. With a searing smile, she gazed at me: Thank you she replied, in a way beatific at my apparent compliment uttered for a scented afternoon there, and not intended for her as we reached the belvedere.
Could we, loving in an alcove of the pergola-reach loggia after guessing in an enfilade expire in a state of rapture
after being so very tentative? but she had quite misunderstood, or had wanted to misunderstand me, perhaps wanting a desire that would never tire at sea