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
longer
each breath longer
than the breath before
the sea rises
rises
and falls
fresh water springs split
white rock fissures
swirling sparkling arrows
sharp ice pale blades
splinter velvet salt
silence falls
azure enchantment
eyes open wide
the paradise is sea
when words take breath
when words
when words
when words take
when words take breath
Cool sun, sky ice light blue. Commuters puff out their personal clouds and frown knowingly. “It’s back then. Aye, here’s winter again.”
My talented pal Ross @bigblether drew the illustration below.
Sleep well.
Dream of those things
only you know.
Your sleeping breath
my inspiration.
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 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.
