Pneumatics
A sudden
lunging gulp
for a breath
you would
have taken
had you
known
leaves you
spluttering
It's never too late until it is
to beg mercy
to mutate
to drink air
to scream
to grow gills
to gasp
to embrace
change
Fine mist
suffuses
perception
wheezing
heady frothy
atmosphere
deafening
roar drowns
all thought
You're
a droplet
an eensy
aerialist
the one
you would
have been
had you
known
You're
a breath
and then
another
one
more
one
last
one
YOU ARE READING
Express, baggage and all...
PoetryObjects in the mirror are closer than they appear... Just when you think you've put something behind you for good, you look back and find it trails you like your very own comet's tail, lighting a path through the dark. Reading through these pages...