Empty Lungs

She alone shadows my outside heart in glass, Unknowns in saws and hands, a lifetime's goodbye That her memory's stay will still on us crash, Where the breath in both our wombs, this hollow light — A channel of trees all grown up should, must last — And the tongue in her leaves also with me cries, The rattling of limbs through some window passed — Shaking green on my lips, her oxygen mask.