there is a shift of atmosphere,
an increase in nitrogen, something
unknowable to my bones.
an ache almost, a memory
of a breath caught or released,
an instinct missed.
the air already so thin between
us, a suffocation of footsteps,
my hands too close to your heart.
the blue deepens one loss at a time.
do blue eyes turn white when
there is no blood? leaving
only striated clouds to see through.
I keep writing blank verses in
this bible, filling the pages
with less. Is the dream’s
absence who I am
.
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