Cracked Breath
Do you ever replay regrets,
Breathing in that cracked breath,
Inhaling the last of your little secrets,
Never to suppose, this is not in fact, death.
Even outside, your mind appears measured,
Feeling the rich earth between your toes,
Only to trap thoughts untethered,
A simpler mind might expose.
Did you stop of your own accord,
Hearing love's song in that old heart,
Just repeating lines of each last record,
Waiting for all meaning to be ripped apart.
Are you under such, my wiley woman's curse,
You even quiz the impotent night's sky,
Pondering mysteries of our universe,
Declaring it to be a dastardly lie.
I don't know I have any fight left in me,
To scratch again at this same locked door,
Begging and begging to bequeath me the key,
Just to confuse this, my affection, for some chore?
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