Sweetest Breath

The sweetest breath that I ever drew
came at that finite moment when passion
considered me its embodiment-a moment with you,
a suspension of self in a sweet burning fashion.

A place somewhere between holding and
releasing, wanting to forever stay
at the precipice in this every-man’s land.
The hard wear of love, a game I try to play.

I experienced that most sought after of sensations
that prolongs its arrival, then bursts within.
An arch, the shudder of love’s machinations,
that dance in the night: my occasional sin.

And then I dreamed of finite existence
and woke once again, at your insistence.