Exhale

Is there a moment in there?

Here now, really.

Where’s the time in which we’re defined?


With every look I want to pierce eternity.


Call it nostalgic, but I call it losing life.


Every firm, firm grip reminds me I’ll be loosed one day;


Every wind brings promise of stillness.


I try to fill my lungs past the point of bursting,


But then they break, the deep exhale, but then they break.


There’s something so comfortable about a coffee mug steaming,


The warmth slowly fading away.


Is there a moment in there?


In here, really.


Or is it all about the slow fade?

dmv 2.17.11