Ruminations on Breath

 

Breath is a shoe lined with moleskin

holding my foot in its soft hand.

Breath carries liquid crystals to my blood

filling my head with full spectrum light.

Breath wants to be a fighting beta from the pet store

with more colors than any one eye can contain.

Breath dreams of a cabin in the woods filled with the

casings of pine smoke and musty old cots.

Breath wants to be held like a baby cocooned

in flannel blankets and carried through the snow.

Breath thirsts for a muddled mojito

to wear with pink fuzzy house slippers.

Breath grows into a sequined jazz singer

in a smoky nightclub who wants all eyes on her.

Breath has a packed suitcase by the front door

ready to blow out of here first chance she gets.