hold the flashlight up
under my chin
like a suicidal jedi knight
breathe out
empty those lungs yogi-style
in the light a vapor forms
the amorphous shape
undulates away
disappears as water droplets
spread and the temperature
between them and the adjacent air
becomes insignificant
exhale again
step into
the little cloud of myself
feel nothing
neither the sudden cooling
of nighttime sea spray
nor the volcanic steam
of the just finished running dishwasher
just nothing
and is this
–i wonder aloud to the dog–
what ghosts don’t feel
when they pass through
one another?
Tag: vapor
we are breath (20170728)
we are breath
we are vapor
we collect ourselves
a pool in the corner of the mouth
shaken free by a word
by a second word
by a smile
we run
trace the muscle
from cheek to chin
we fall