Breath

Poem

Sometimes I forget to breathe,
But that’s not true.
In reality, I just stop sometimes;
I think about you and
Pause my processes
Close my eyes
Grieve the losses
And a bit more of me dies,
Until I exhale.

Sometimes I forget to breathe,
But it doesn’t really hold
The time I try to clutch and keep
As days grow old and
Slip my fingers.
Clouds and skies
The warmth that lingers
Behind my eyes
When the touch is gone.

Someday soon I’ll try to breathe,
But the air won’t taste the same.
The atmosphere I thought I knew
I’ll never see again, and so
My sips are shallow
Foolishly
Within the hollow
I believe
Your exhalations
Still preserved
Your gasps I live on
Undeterred
Remain in the bottom… of my lungs.

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photograph by Ivan Karasev

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