you steal the breeze
and there is nothing stirring left
to remind me what is breathing
and in the dark hours
the desert trembles green
between the sorrows
and the seams
remembering the silence
of trees and the between-times
the brightness of uncaged stars
and of strangers soundless touching
made unstrange in hunger shared
our hands were perfect maps
of the cracks between our feet
and yet I could not find a way
you are the unfound trail
through still tides
and skies unmoving
you are this
and everything besides
what is breathing

© Sarah Whiteley


  1. wowee, so much in the unsaid that this one is quite intoxicating. or maybe it’s just hanging out in the desert with all that focus on breath that’s made me thirsty 🙂



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