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A candle will surrender its oxygen,                                                                                                                                                                                            if only she stands close enough. 

 

 

 

A single inhale  (hers?  mine?)  should not create a vacuum 

should not dim the light 

 

A single touch of her fingers on my arm should not send sparks

ought not create a fire

dominos of electrons 

 

Her glance, paused in my direction

should not create days of dreams 

 

How can you speak when you cannot breathe?

Hours later,  breathless still,  

also grateful

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



words above in italics from Topaz Winters

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