Ashes at the end of mouths,
begin your journey from fire and
end in powdered nothingness. As I draw
in, again. Fly away, the silk
of smoke, grey air-
choke the skies and fuse with clouds.
Murderous fumes, go where
I cannot see you. Nestle the heart
swim through the throat
and away from sight,
plague the lungs, blackening the roots.
Small white pillars of slow death,
seek the vehicle of fingertips, who
ferry the passengers day and
night. You have won, I have not.
I have only inhaled and thought.
Exhaled and thought.
Circles glow slowly, grow a beard of ash,
snow over and are crushed.
Darkness and cold, rain and drink
enhance your pull. I am seeking you
when the time is right, when it is not.
I am there to destroy and
burn your kind as I burn and destroy
myself. Exhale I must,
release your stinging airs before
they cause too much pain. For a
tiny bit is all I need. Enough to extinguish
the thirst that can only be
quenched by fire.
deep inhalations, deeply held
breathing bones are truly alive.
Although the achings return
always, like hungry snakes,
a yawning ball of light
is revolving and grows,
devouring the darkness,
defaced by the snakes,
When the storms subside,
it is time to
release the sickening grip
and assign symbols to your
sorrows, gently gazing into the needles
and breathe the air
like you were buried
a thousand years ago.