chagall backdrop

Her tears bead crystal
regrets bluer than that time
against black satin

Her sweet talc beguiles
such an exquisite long neck
a place of somber dimples

I shall bathe in the pool
at the nape of her life
an azure puddle of warm rain

Hear that?

That’s the sound I make
when thrashing and drowning’s
not merely a state of mind

Her strong hand
in the deepest end
continues to hold me under

© Chagall 2014