Starved breaths for time, and I’m so hungry for air
As the sky offers these familiar breathless chambers
A cool taste of a drink in the ashes of a cigarette kiss,
My throat hungers for rain, and I must swim in this-
Fathomless ocean, drawing from blood mixed as ink

The picture of words stings under my salty wounds
A few inches above the bottom of depression, I hover
Saints gather by a curve of faith, of a bend in history;

Truly it’s a mystery, to acknowledge a scent of victory
To see your purpose fully naked, of revealing a destiny
Even though, tonight I enter these years flowing past,
The land’s path we all follow; I grow hungry more so
To be fed with any more time to fully experience it all