A Vacant Breeze
by Lise Whidden

only the pale shiver of flesh
separates the bones from air

what we cannot see we breathe
it’s all the incense of faith

I can smell the dark on you
when you fold yourself against

me-- I inhale your image
your one eye dreaming

despite what the other sees
there’s a tongue inside your mouth

licking the back of your teeth
but you won’t taste the salt on skin

inside the hollow confines
of a mouth that remains painted closed