Tony Bush Poet Blank verse

Breathe

I breathe 
  in your departing wake, 
  of your dust; 
it burns 
  caustic soda crystals, 
  a trachea vent. 
My words 
  pour out, evaporate, 
  water droplets; 
they hiss 
  of dumb vapour 
  on solar dried concrete. 
These prayers 
  a mortuary syntax, 
  cry of trust betrayed; 
howl regret 
  for what has passed, 
  and cannot be reclaimed. 
Zero host 
  of the stratosphere 
  can hear them; 
to me, 
  yes, even me, 
  they have no meaning. 
I breathe 
  in my own tears, 
  engulfed in hope; 
recycling this 
  blur of pain 
  to feel you burn within.

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