Asghar Abbas's Blog - Posts Tagged "yum"
Terri Schwartz
She wasn't sketching just then, but she'd pause before each breath, like she was in a painting herself. And yet, her unspoken words upon his felt like her breath on his face. What had started as a poem would end up as an eulogy.
But what was he, a constant writer he always was. And yet it took the errancy of her attention for him to concede she humanized his words while dehumanizing him. He accepted what he knew all along, he needed something warm and breathing to resurrect his thoughts.
That was um intense as it should be. If not then he could always alter the words but not her mind. Even so, her every breath was a betrayal.
Listen, I said to her. You breathe, you are open to decay. That's the kinda sadness that breathes with you. For your thoughts are a living breathing thing and they are quite safe with me- unfortunately.
She heard me, but didn't listen to me. And into the breath of sea she went. I could breathe down there, she told me. It was her answer to my question as to what she missed most about her sea. She could breathe under the water.
But I told her. It's OK, you don't have to breathe. Let's just go down and be at the bottom with all the sunken planets.
Why, she asked me.
Because people like us, I said to her.
There is no one like you and I, she said. No one is more suffused with moonlight than you and me. We are a set of twin dead in the field of artificial breathing.
Isn't this sad?
No.
But what was he, a constant writer he always was. And yet it took the errancy of her attention for him to concede she humanized his words while dehumanizing him. He accepted what he knew all along, he needed something warm and breathing to resurrect his thoughts.
That was um intense as it should be. If not then he could always alter the words but not her mind. Even so, her every breath was a betrayal.
Listen, I said to her. You breathe, you are open to decay. That's the kinda sadness that breathes with you. For your thoughts are a living breathing thing and they are quite safe with me- unfortunately.
She heard me, but didn't listen to me. And into the breath of sea she went. I could breathe down there, she told me. It was her answer to my question as to what she missed most about her sea. She could breathe under the water.
But I told her. It's OK, you don't have to breathe. Let's just go down and be at the bottom with all the sunken planets.
Why, she asked me.
Because people like us, I said to her.
There is no one like you and I, she said. No one is more suffused with moonlight than you and me. We are a set of twin dead in the field of artificial breathing.
Isn't this sad?
No.
