Forever in a Breath
When forever lasts a breath
and I hold it in for what feels like forever,
so in some selfish matter
I can hold onto that moment for as long as possible.
Terrified to let it go,
because then the next might not be as sweet;
perhaps the next might suffocate me.
But maybe it will be better than the last.
Replaying that single breath,
the breath that I breathed when
your lips first touched mine,
when my heart fell out of my chest ten feet high,
just to land securely in your hand.
My mind is always on repeat.
It sees every pour of your skin,
every color your hair contains when
the sun kisses your being,
and every pigment in your eyes that once danced
and now dance upon the sky.