If matter can be neither created nor destroyed,
Is it really so hard to believe
operates in the same way?
That as I inhale,
it is only because someone else
the gift of
That my exhale, the gentle push of oxygen and carbon dioxide,
must be received
Across the marble of our Eearth,
each expanding belly
is matched by a contracting one.
The shallow breaths of infants
The robust inhalations of athletes
the robust exhalations of other fit bodies.
And then an army of me’s,
middling in our unathleteness.
Our panting exertions.
Our mouth breathing.
Six billion of us working
Our bodies dancing over time and space.
Convex body matching
In and out.