every sooften, a day will wash over     leaving me
a little paler, a little thin ner

for the most part I crush it like a can and bury it in my chest,
pretend it's a necklace, wear a face to match
I'll take breaths so deep, but my chest won't move
up    or down, some days

I cut it into pieces, dangle it from the ceiling and watch it glint in the  
sunlight, some days

I pull it over my head like a blanket, and keep the dayshine
at bay, leave my limbs pale a little longer

somedays
it's almost a comfort

some days, It's almost as if
I breathe it as it
breathes me and

the wind we create together carries us
in it's length across
the valleys of our        
small universe