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.)
