A terseness enters the lungs
as the once steady
in, out
of air ceases.
The distance between here and there
vibrates, shines-nearly-as the minute spaces
vanish.
Twixt two halves lies
wild, uncanny suspension,
how is your mother doing?
and awe feels its way sweetly
through the chasm.
I’d rather stay in tonight
The space separating
guarded and loosened
periphery and vulnerability
two and one
hums with a question.
And, like fire to crinkling ashes,
meet,
no, I want you to stay
consume.
