
Long pulls and strokes
of her hard brush,
smoothed the way
for curls
and throaty incantations.
Her aromas cleave
me at center,
I am tinged at my fringes
by her scents.
These remain
the strongest trigger,
the fastest way back
to a time. So it was
a chance to be sexy,
poetic and smart.
All good things
rolled into one.
A black
tie-dye
event.
A time
for dahlias, pepper silks,
and arced backs,
for running lights
and rubbing curves
the wrong way.
© Chagall, 2013
