Every breath is both an expansion and a collapse;
a gasp and a sigh; an opening up and a shutting down.
I know.
I know the shape of your hands. The placement of your moles.
Every breath.
Every breath.
Despite the collapse, and the collapse, and the collapse,
you are worth it.
Some days I wish I didn’t know your nails,
or the mole above your knee.
As much as I collapse when I reflect upon you, I also expand, and expand, and, oh god.
At times, the air is so visible around me. Sister, I shall never
stop
breathing.
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