January 13, 2014 § Leave a comment

the memory of
humid night air
seeping through the vents
of my car, and us, still
holding air in our lungs
should our breath
stir the other
causing a butterfly
effect, of sorts
a punctured moment
to remain imagined
so we are still
and hesitance becomes
our greatest friend and foe
but the air surrounding us
is waiting too
absorbing into our skin
and remaining there
should we ever forget


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