SOMETIMES THERE IS NO WIND
Though the cup may seem empty, and you feel the silence bearing down much like fingers kneading your unyielding skull, though your chest pressure is more than negative still breathe, breath is life, breath is hope, breathing conjures tomorrow when all might be renewed, another day, another sorrow, another round of laughter at the cooler where eyes dance with desire and lies come easily, hold on to that thing within life is sometimes silent like death be still, just listen,…