a poem.

She breathes soft words into the wind
paralyzed verbs of passion
Her speech makes empty
the fullness of love
as once saturated syllables are
blown dry with silent secrets
Her quiet utters of perfumed pain
form a cool breeze of poisoned air

Her whispered nothings are sweet
their smog a pollution
of my atmosphere
I’ve inhaled too deeply
the toxins of her tongue
Lungs full of a lover’s lies
I asphyxiate
for lack of clean pure truth

 

– a slight wind