A kiss is a probe, isn’t it? Tell me . . .
Wait! First, meet me in the shallows
where the echoes go, or atop the tree
where we’ll find our self
in selfish longing,
won’t you?
© Chagall 2015
Tag Archive: Kiss
From the low part of the land, in the windows at the crest
indistinct figures dance behind the golden glass lit to music
more imagined than heard, I can fog them with frost from here so
they disappear, how I love my crunch in new-fallen snow,
my back angled, face alee, burrowed in a warm woolen muffler,
a straight-away plus a bend away from the smile of your eyes at the door.
© Chagall 2014
There is ceremony in stirring your lashes
with soft breath and stealth kiss,
I would just miss your lips and gently nudge
my chin into the soft of your cheek,
then press till I floated away.
© Chagall 2014
We’d kiss deliciously
after having had bonbons
© Chagall 2014
pearled, blew on pink
lips drawn slowly
recede. Delicate press
cracks, the strung bow
perceived motion
stopping here
each lash unique
so clearly discerned
© Chagall 2014
Lemon vaporous
crisp citrus tang licks the tongue
gobs of sweet meringue
© Chagall 2013
White and pink flowers
in a black vase
beside the nip
of bourbon
Its caramel
reminds me
that love
is never
sure
but a kiss
is always possible
© Chagall 2013
A poet here would plié,
I’m fairly certain
a chanteuse
would pray
for
dancers,
and fliers
merely fly away
once more
than flown away.
It’s a
sad romance,
a short pivot
to the kiss.
© Chagall 2013
As I near your cheek
the world fades away
you loom larger there
before me
like a rock to be scaled
too steep it seems
for sure footing
if lips could walk
I close my eyes
whisper a prayer
and hurl myself off
from the ledge
© Chagall, 2013
How naked her tongue
electric red papilla
every bump excites
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 