they asked could I help to get her out,
she – prone fetal within a cocoon under blankets,
deep beneath ground in the cave’s recess
(how far can the heart burrow?)
I excavate a deep and long core,
slowing as I near her, for fear
I will damage her, close there
to the edge
(an onion-skin of spun-silk separates us)
poke through and breathe, I say
taste the air and the light…
(…or let it collapse behind you, I think I hear her say)
so near there, just on the other side,
I ascend to gain foothold, I yell Stand back!
and I kick through
silver fragments of cocoon float into the core of light
exposed through the portal beneath my foot
she is covered in a fine dust, a cowl of rebirth,
I extend my hand to her, she takes it, and we ascend
slowly to the surface
Chagall 2019
Alphabet City 