Boy. Bouncing. Breathing.

<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/magsishmoon/art/Theodore-Finch-and-Violet-Markey-766756197">Photo by MagsishMoon @ deviantart</a><br/><br/>after Jennifer Niven<br/><br/>Inhale. A primal gasp. It comes to usso simply &#8212; else, it should, but breathing isa Herculean task &#8212; but breathe we mustto keep our blood electric with the fizzof possibility. Flutter your eyes,pull all of Heaven in a perfect lineand let it rescue you from sure demise,a moment or an hour. It is fineoutside. Bundle yourself against the coldthat presses in, the heartlessness of wordsthrown carelessly. And you would smile, bolda little while, although it feels absurdprojecting manic glee, safe deflection,chasing quiet hope with your affection. <br/><br/>Get full access to Sonnets &c. at <a href="https://zjppoetry.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast">zjppoetry.substack.com/subscribe</a>