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if love were oxygen
I'd carry a tank wouldn't you? its necessary to breathe, isn't it? that is, if love is breathing... but love makes me breathless steals my oxygen and makes my heart pump too fast so that it over-fills with blood and primes it redder if you were my oxygen I'd inhale my rib cage flush with my diaphram then take a long time to exhale so that I'd feel light-head and intoxicated knowing you provide me with what I need most that one essential which feeds my entire body and makes it work but what would I do if you should remove yourself and thus remove the essential oxygen which I think I need I remember now this has happened once and will happen again it is the human condition to move on and leave leaving with the love I once thought I couldn't breathe without but I'm a fool if I believe this love isn't oxygen nor are you singularily the very fuel I believe I won't live without oxygen is more like a process of self-regulation a natural exchange if I settle into myself I will begin to believe I am the generator I can breathe on my own. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 7/27/2022 7:27AM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME TIME AND DATE STAMPED, AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/AUTHOR MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE NAME: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD...(GOD BLESS YOU GRANDFATHER T.) Vote for this poem |
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