I’ll do it tomorrow

I’ll do it tomorrow he said

but didn’t

and now he never will

so I’ll definitely do it today

I think

a bit later on

but I will

I’ll breathe in

and love you

and breathe out

and love you

and keep breathing

and loving

my lungs and my heart staying in sync

I’ll definitely do it today

I think

a bit later on

I think

but I will

Breath whistled

How can I ever know if people see their deaths in me, he asked.
A look at the back of the eye, the crook of an eyebrow, a flattening of ears, the whistle breath of fear. All these are clues, I said.
He sighed. I have seen all of those, he replied.
I heard my own breath whistle and closed my eyes.
No, open them, he said softly. You must see this to the end.

Originally published on Paragraph Planet http://www.paragraphplanet.com on Friday 13 June 2014

Beneath the skins I breathe

Beneath the skins I breathe your breath.

Your head in my hands you lie still;

still and soft-muscled, all tension gone.

Your breath slow and dark hangs in the light, 

the light strained through skins, my eyes are blurring.

My own breath slows, and slows.

Slow as yours, my breath hangs heavy.

Beneath the skins I breathe your breath.