Colored beads cover every atom of her surface
skin to halo collisions create misty aura
En pointe her tenons convey the brace of hearts,
on flex she sighs as she stretches that about her which is ground –
not earth, but the space against her figure where existence breaks into outline
against the void she enables
She hurtles through space, falls at the same pace
as mystifying tendencies there on the outskirts
My fingers trace her hem to a chorus of Amen
remnants of older chants echo about us
There is sadness in her beauty
melancholia piques her desire
We find random wonderful happenstance
perfect such that there’s no need for change
so we will time to stop to persist every aspect
to christen Us as timeless
Together we as twin stars bare
heavier atoms still
Chagall 2015

Chagall, is this about me, or women in general? It’s beautifully written.
Neither, actually. š
Thank you for the comment – very much obliged. —CC