Content

Issue 14
The Breath of God

I cannot feel your breath
upon me alone at night,
in the hours they say people die.

I will die without your
lifesaving breath, your skin inhaled,
sweet smell, a necessary drug.

Air too pure burns breath
burns life as time runs out.

Real time becomes surreal time
as your systems systematically shut down,
as I hold my breath
unable to take it in,
to give away my breath
exchanged for yours.

Every inhalation, exhalation,
are infinite reiterations,
artificially sustained.

I breathe with you
like the machine,
your respirations,
in and out.

I would pour
my every breath into you,
into your lungs, a last
ditch resuscitation
resurrection of faith
in God as my breath
burns prayers in the air

you breathe.