chagall backdrop

I imagine his memory of me, myself anew, image inverted
in polished specula, arranged to reflect the deeper end
where form and touch precede the vapors

An air too thin to breathe
grips my breast, this hollow where spirit resides

Tousled so giddy then, now my love
lacks legs so I hobble, hush and expel
warm breath from rounded lips

In steam I trace mosaics that vanish
once rendered, in a gallery I lie hidden
hands over ears, my heart squeezed shut
to count the fallen footstep

© Chagall 2014