I’ve got a thousand tiny lungs
on every inch of skin
heaving, breathing,
and pulling air in
but their
rhythm
is
breaking
they struggle against me
as you slither down their openings,
a suffocation scene
it cannot be the chemicals
simply mixing past my teeth
raising heat, slowing – breathe
drag the eyelids as a
beat cop, casing murder gone unsolved
naked lungs burning for air
as you slither, squeeze, release
coating every strand of hair
oxygen, a fickle fleeting
flirting, fucked-up kind of friend
who stays the night, but every time
abandons as a one night stand
the brain, depending on
a thousand tiny lungs
no heaving, breathing,
only sucking water in
as a well in a downpour
as a desert flashflood
as the drain in the bathtub,
as the water still runs
the alcohol, back
then forth.
fingers reach my bottom lip,
a fist of surprising force.
I’ve got two larger lungs
that empty, fill, repeat
but slowly let their duties go
in willing, calm defeat.
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