Breathing In
in tanka and haiku form
Rest, but not so deep as the leaves of this pond that mask its silver face. See I have made holes for eyes. See I have made them for us. That we may see clear our bodies aging, folding back into the breath, the Great Inhalation at the moment of our dying. Weary, all of you in the mesh between the past and what is to be, the long line of italics all those bone-soft memories. When the river swells, when the molten breasts do heave, there's nowhere to stand. Not even decadence grows an extra set of teeth, but ... Do not be so quick to tear the sacred threads off the idols we clothe. They're transfixed before the final meaning of things, and they are quite cold.


Wonderful. I loved that.
Gorgeous. Is this about me?