Following the sequence
of death slowly. Mouth
balloons with hot air that
travels down, crushing
the lungs with inexplicable
force, squeezing the life
out of the vessels until
body turns cold. I look,
wait, pant, hyperventilate.

Still quiet, still quiet.
Unless there is some love
lingering, like a mother staring
at her child, sleeping in an
innocent pose that brings
you to a new birth, there
can be no resolution. Eyes
closed, fists clenched, minutes
dwindled into seconds.
Hush now, close your eyes
and sleep.