Our of nowhere, invisible hands grab me.
Fingers sharpened to tiny needles stabbing me all over.
Internal bleeding I beg could finish me off.
My lungs burn for life,
but I burn for limited air supply.
My legs itch to run,
but I know better than to try again.
****** footsteps leave traces
for the invisible hands to find me again.

The sun was still cold in your breath,
half-awake still dreaming and we are way past that hour,
just waiting for the first light to break in and steal the dark away like a stereo.

The air was fetid,
reeking of sad news,
swirling about,
but we moseyed along carrying dustpans and brooms,
lugging garbage bags
like we were sanitation Santa,  sweeping cigarette butts,
and in them I saw burnt time,
and in them I see mounting bills.
The cold air was doing a number
on us, dumping its oblique
sorrow on our then ragged frame
as we emptied waste baskets.

At times when I utter the word doctor,
your eyes go creamy,
your ears wag,
perhaps I was doing an impression—
an echo
of a forgotten life.
People were still groggy on their cardboard beds, their lips wearing soot as they drooped down on the side of their faces, the night weighed heavy on them.
Unlike most sight that slide through and veer away from despair in the flesh, yours fell on them with flecks of your heart knowing that from them we are dimes apart.
We swept, but your broom was nimble, springing into life in those days. Out of nowhere your hope swung a fist. I always remembered those words like a promise and held on to them like a limb.
“Though the world may forget, don’t dare forget who you are.”

I open the door.
     The sweet fall air comes inside.
          The stink goes outside.

It's beyond you, in the sky no matter how hard you try,
like transient love that visits you and then waves goodbye,
I grasped its tail, grappled and refused to let it go,
it was there for me, procrastinated and gave me a tow.

The magic rubbed off, lifted me up, placed me in a golden bowl,
at that moment all is clear when you can see inside your soul,
things not noticed before as tho' someone opened a velvet door,
what do you wish to see, air and light, who could wish for more.

You can not disbelieve when you fail to perceive or want to leave,
'oh what a wicked web we weave when we practise to deceive;'
the air was misty blue, light like a feather, wondered whether
I deserved to be cloaked when supernatural spirits came together.

They armed me with perception but you have no recollection,
how powerful, doubts removed, returning to Earth was my decision.

If the air that we breathe
is withheld, we will perish
The Breath of Life is a gift,
we should all greatly cherish

Breathing is essential and
This is so true It signifies Life
The air flows through you

We need air to breathe
it is how we survive
If our air is cut off
we will not be alive

The Breath of Life is a
Beautiful feeling,
If you are breathing air now,
It is Truly a Blessing!!!!


B.R.
Date: 8/26/2024

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

My hands grip the smoke in the air
circling my fingers as though to tease me.
The endless form of vapor shapeshifts
passing through my palm,
as though my existence was a distant laughter
that does not echo
but fades away.

Have you ever sat inside a bubble
Where the air feels fresher?