Fumbling Aid
by Margo Davis

A need elemental,
breath itself, you gulp

each little bit, your life
depending on this.

No thought given to the breath
which must follow.

We buddy breathe.
You inhale my exhale

breath by slow breath.
And when you awaken,

focus in natural light,
what do you see? Stranger,

no angel. The air, soft
but not rarified yet.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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