How odd the stars that burn so hot
can wink, demure, so cold
I am warmed by the faces
of so many moons
More real than the lights
of jet planes
These nights I find
I slow down seeking free fall
Up, so I float
without need to ever
look down
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 
You play with language more beautiful than anyone I know.
Thank you, Tiffany. You are too kind! 🙂 Carlos