There is this thing that happens
when you’re out of words to say.
As you wave goodbye,
and turn the car on,
the moment
opens up its arms
and wraps you
and you just cry. Violently
Underneath the moon,
or at a 24 hour bakery,
or at an intersection
while you wait for the light to turn
green.
But you cry as if your body knows
no other function.
You cry like you did the first day of
your life.
Not out of sadness,
as a reminder you’re alive.
And for a few seconds, the wind
And the night
And the music from the car next to you
All sound like a heartbeat
Maybe that’s what happens
when
you’ve forgotten the sound
of your own
Paper Lungs 