To say that he has enclasped my lungs in <br /> <br />the firm hold of his fevered gaze, <br /> <br />would be an understatement. <br /> <br />You see, with every flutter of his eyes shut, <br /> <br />I reach the surface of stormy waters <br /> <br />and feebly gasp for all the air I can collect, <br /> <br />before he oscillates his golden orbs open <br /> <br />and submerges me into the deep set ocean <br /> <br />that I had so willingly chosen to drown in, <br /> <br />from the first moment the salty water danced around my skin. <br /> <br />I suffocate here. <br /> <br />I drown here. <br /> <br />This is where I die a million deaths with every whirlpool of kisses <br /> <br />he plants on my nose and mouth and ears and neck. <br /> <br />This is where I learn to stop breathing and learn to exist <br /> <br />with every pulse that runs through his tired heart and <br /> <br />reaches my fingertips and runs through my nerves. <br /> <br />This is where I don’t want to be saved. <br /> <br />Do not resuscitate.<br /><br />Mary Great<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/do-not-resuscitate-3/
