Hold on!

How does one hold on to a whiff of air, to catch a breath, the knowledge that I need to open with a gasp what I hold in denial of your existence and my need of you?

Yet, I cannot feel you, nor with senses, neither with will. I can only exhume the dull acknowledgement of a sensation of life being sucked out when I first held my breath to end you.

I was not aware of you before. Not that I am specifically aware of you after, but this vague fear of not knowing how you died so effortlessly while I am rooted to my ground. Not moving an inch in all the miles I carry in my memory. Trying to hold on to you flowing away into the distance - all the miles lost in your memory, except a dull floating into the void and out effortlessly, fluid, languid.

Sometimes I wonder, if you travel away to span all distances where I might reach needing you. Wishing never to leave me wanting. Yet, do I know if the vast expanse where you live, omnipresent, is really centered around my existence?

You did not deny when I asked. You did not acknowledge when I probed. And the uneasiness of your silence chokes me like I choke you one breath at a time.

You tell me that I bind you to flesh, but its mine not yours, and its breathing and beating stubbornly to create a new world over the corpse of the one that died last night. And I was rocking you, like a child, Perhaps today was the justice I sought, where I could open my eyes and see the empty space, run into the winds, and tell myself its all you into all of me.

But it is not enough, how do I hold on to a whiff of air? You carry my sounds, into the distance, perhaps its your way of holding on to my words.

But all I hear back is my echo, a whistle past senses, of joy? or moans? How do I know what you said back to me? Hold on! let me hold you again in a gasp, and hear your throbbing heart, if you have one.