It’s Saturday morning,
I find within my mind
that which allows it
to never slip away.
© Chagall 2015
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In the moon I’ve seen
slow waltzes of shadows
sultry and long-lined
silhouettes arched, stretched tightly
around rims of deep craters,
sunlit so far away.
© Chagall 2015
As we passed the church
I made doubly certain
that I made one more
sign of the cross than she.
© Chagall 2015
Her emojis gave me much pleasure,
brought soothing pressure to my thumbs.
© Chagall 2015
She and I, so similar – two peas
in separate pods each desiring
the annihilation of the other.
© Chagall 2015
People like us just know
where all the stashes would be.
© Chagall 2015
I watched him
over his shoulder
at first not recognizing
the lines, but then I saw
he was drawing asunder,
which I thought was no
longer allowed.
© Chagall 2015
I inhale till
the flame goes out.
© Chagall 2015
Who knows what you’ll find
on the edges of cards
used to scrape up
the mess.
© Chagall 2015
Your eyes find these words
Across the chasm they come
Light up the dark bridge
© Chagall 2015
