An Old Pair

They never stopped breathing for me. My pair of nostrils are steady. It comes tricky with the mouth. It’s the only part of a face that doesn’t come in a pair. Peculiar. A mouth knows how to do thousands of things like eating, speaking, laughing, praising, cursing, smiling, frowning, and kissing. But right now, I’m trying to grow an old pair of eyes and ears—learn to look and listen well. Someday, right?



I imagine to tickle my mind. I giggle loudly inside.

Eyebrows sifting left to right, I am lying on a grass field

under a gush of warm breeze of July.

I wonder maybe, you will come home and smile.

I wonder maybe, tomorrow will mesmerize and shine.

Across the sky, I will lift up my hands,

Draw a skyline on the tips of my composing,

And breathe in music notes in swirly lines

— I imagine to tickle my mind.