I sometimes hear things
That remind me of your last breaths-
Fast and continuous, like a sprinter
Trying to finish a course before running down:
The endurance even of human frailty is astounding.
I tell myself that life is a casualty experience at best;
Your death is but one of hundreds, thousands, billions..
And I have to wonder what keeps the world from completely
Filling up with those last hyperventilations
Till there's no room left on any continent
The atmosphere stretched taut like a greenhouse balloon
So that it implodes from the inside out, the skin torn
And the hollowed-out eyes raining down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem