Breathe

 
I don't have much to say  
nowadays
weightless words, mull
from bare branches
lulled of burdens
blossoms fall
pretending not to know  
anything.
 
Questions linger
in the palm of our hands
folded in quarters and halves
with the same quotidian pall
grey and dull
negotiating death
in curve of the day, and
I watch you shift in your skin
loose and aloof
with fading irises
waiting for color of pain.
 
Everything's agreed upon  
in silence
oppressedly
sinking in ocean's bed
tangled intangibles  
together; yet, apart
beneath cloudless air.
 
We speak in whispers  
not to stir the dust, viscid  
settled gutless sediments
on furniture and broken flowers
heavy and ancient
unhurried moments in fluid hours.
 
Desire nestles in sorrow
speckles of the past  
mine, yet; not me
 
the coffee currents
flow in my tongueless mouth
cold and placid
 
I don't have much to say
but
breathe.