It’s too cold to breathe, but just the right degrees to whisper.
Whisper with me among the grass, draped to the seed in snow.
Our attempts to breathe sends that chill of familiarity down our throats, cooling the intricate contours within.

I think we should continue to whisper.
Whisper with me, your hand is unnaturally warm in mine.
Our hearts beat in our chests so hard, it’s audible above our whispers.

Stop and take in the sound with me, breathing is our greatest mistake so far.

It’s just too much to ask, but it’s just the right time to breathe.
Whisper with me, inhale and exhale as much as recommended.
Our attempts to stare at the sunlight through the swollen clouds sends that feeling of reassurance throughout.

I love the way you stare, look into my eyes forever.
Whisper with me, take all this contagious static away.
Our hearts pound in the beat of breathing, it took us long enough.

Stop and take in the view with me,
breathing is our greatest triumph so far.

Define this beauty with all the chaos and watch it melt into a thousand stars.

© Copyright January 2010

2 thoughts on “Makeshift

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