i am frost-bitten upon realizing that
suddenly the diaphragm
refuses to cough out any more air:
(at least not this happy, not this cold).
at least not now, not anymore.
with vapours on me,
i know that the winds were once here
i am frost-bitten upon realizing that
suddenly the diaphragm
refuses to cough out any more air:
(at least not this happy, not this cold).
at least not now, not anymore.
with vapours on me,
i know that the winds were once here
perhaps it is time to open your eyes
and watch the fishes
that are your lighthouses
go by; and then you will know
that you haven't really been dry, even when this
human tide arrests itself
in masks of
4-ply
living is about
being able to offer
everything in one second,
and nothing
the very next.