I am no where near dying
but I can find no room here
for breathing.
When first I laid eyes on you
I unfolded like papyrus layers
wet from the Nile.
This intricacy of doubts,
all wounds and scars
becoming something holy.
Iโve captured your voice,
reassembled it in my throat
to not forget the way you sound.
A thousand humming bees
flitting from the catch in my throat
when I open my mouth to speak.
