The light is soft here as if all the world is heather
askance, atilt and askew. I stare at a door ajar
that invites me to slip in now and then, and I do.
I float on a tone, bulbous sound beats against time
measured in gulps, a three-quarter waltz paced regularly
when I least expect it to. I wish you eternal lavender.
Life offers life on the gentlest of palms below the wrists’
hollows so slender and kissable. Cheeks intended for cupping
dimple and provoke the protrusion of lips for tugging, to daub,
pull and pout. The colors around me begin to lose their soft-edge,
sadly. I hear the click of the door lock, not certain which side I am on.
On the down beat I gracefully swoop with torque and suspension,
sinew and skin and blood, at work in miraculous union.
© Chagall 2017
Alphabet City 
Splice…bulbous…gulps…palms…dimple…daub
The scrumptious word choice of sensuous love. Or is it spiritual love. My friend, I think you describe both.
Thank you so much for the good read. —CC
Thank you so much. I appreciate your taking the time to stop by and to provide the good read. —CC
Reblogged this on Alphabet City.
Reblogged this on House of Heart and commented:
Beautiful, intricate, delicate, powerful work of art.
Comments closed here…please visit the original.
Oh! I am humbled by your gesture. I have been reblogged less than a handful of times throughout the years. Very much obliged. Thank you so much. —CC
This is one of the loveliest poems I have read on WP Chagall. You are a fine poet!