Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Poem 6

in: counting breaths to keep breathing
out: if I stop counting, they will stop coming.
in:stilling my heart
out: I do not count its beats--but--
in: I listen for its rhythm
out: slower
in: softer
out: my blood is too busy doing oxygen things
in: to brighten my cheeks
out: my breath sounds like Rice Krispies (snap crackle pop)
in: my ribs are sore and tired
out: from hauling oxygen

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