I fear I will suffocate
by my own
wrinkled hands.
I fear I will suffocate.
I need this velvety fear
today
that I might
bloom
and ripen
into my own
crumpled
tomorrow.
I see and smell and taste
the air that carries me
and I will keep breathing it.
Until I stop.
____________________________
(This entry is in response to Nicole at Sitting Still who is hosting a poetry play-along.)
2 comments:
brilliant. it really is a nice technique, isn't it?
Amazing, Tam. Really amazing. I may have to try that challenge too!
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