I write this very carefully
so that you don’t stray – at least not very far –
naturally.
Keep the pale blue
in you going,
temper and pace,
and be aware.
In fragrant air
keep bouncing aloft –
see how rooftops keep rising
before us!
The
last
fall is
the hardest,
so say failed aerialists,
but such a sweet kiss
when we’ll hit the ground.
© Chagall, 2013
Cold numb
rubbing
thumbs running
along the nub
tumble longingly
nimble tongues
rumble
in hollow alleys
mouths
tones emanate
our little voices
small moaners
mambo
the tips
of the tops
of marionettes
my index finger
to their crown
to center the pirouette
graceful curtseys
on lower lips
unveil themselves
biting seems right
nipping really
nibbling the ripe
warm, pliant
extending
things
dangling
from
our
bodies.
© Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 