chagall backdrop

Her self-awareness makes her human,
in art, it’s her flaw.

A short wave I’ll ride
till a time when I can’t.

A fingertip at the waist
twirls us in.

My shoulder-blades touch the floor.

Momentum can take you
where air can’t.

She says that moments like these
are rarer.

Than what?

I will always kiss
you when you shrug.

When you stretch out
lean, en pointe or flex

I live to trace
your arcs.

© Chagall 2014