I hoped nobody would pass here
Don’t breathe at least
this place is sacred
The air fabric is
sated with spirit
My own breath disrupts it too
every draft stops short
Though it would be delicious
it’s unbreathable, unbearably
Inconsummable
but you get that first taste
Makes you choke and
fills the lungs with longing
here next to this lake
That time you never met with magic
but you could sense their passing
On the fog birds’ road
it tastes like that
It’s not a scent
oh if only
it descended into sound
all lovers’ voices
ash in the throat