Say I defined time in quarters -
A flash of lightning, an inflamed heart
a silent revolution, a fallen photograph.
Suddenly life is too short.

Say I divided a circle into thirds -
Hush, no space for shelved dreams
And buttoned up plaid shirts.
We do not break bread with discontinuity.

Say I had two hemispheres of life -
too many secrets spill from my ears:
the nook where I braid my hair into knots
the reason not to walk a beach at night.

Say I was brave enough to erase all lines -
unexpectedly, it is not enough, not at all.
I breathe even with the wind-whistle in my skull,
but then it is not a breath, how unready am I?