Chagall, “The Woman with the Blue Face”

                                     The woman with the
blue face dressed in white queen for a day takes for her husband this 
man green in the spring of his fire his body so next to hers he is
inside her another part of her becomes his green splendor in the red
snapdragon garden of her belly and in the darkness of their together
the horse gallops across the rooftops of the village the shadows of
his hooves are midnight crescent moons on the ceiling of quiet desires
let us listen to the music laughter drunk full in our cups and let the
bull flick his tail at the fly and let the fish stumble up the stairs
spawning and let the bird fly yellow into night let the angel fly blue
forever into white as the neck of a swan parts the darkness as Moses
parts the sea as our hearts adjust to the vastness like a marble sized
teacup in the galaxy of a saucer its center heavy and hungry it drinks
all things in and it splits apart and becomes many instead of one