alone in a smoking room

there is life between my fingertips
and a hole in my heart
for a million seconds it is as if
i can hear beneath the silence
the trickle of light
escaping
with every swirl
of translucent 
whispers

with every sigh i
outtake.

i find myself standing in a field
where no one can watch me
as i learn how to take
self-taught lessons
step by step
in healing motion.

i open my eyes
and put out the momentary hiss of
existence-

i am still alone but
reeking in a box of smoke
and feeling
indifference.