Breathe in

You breathe in 
and somewhere far off a drop of water splashes too loud and ruinous into an empty basin.
And somewhere far off a perfect contrail slowly dissolves in the mid afternoon sky.
And a bird swoops, confused and not at all sure what it may catch, if it catches anything.
Cars collide and people who were complete strangers in seconds past now swear like troopers. Like old friends might.
You breathe in and you can almost feel the flood coming back. The sheer toxic and biblical proportions for your unadulterated attention.
And the silence of the aftermath.
For your ears only.
A child cries and no one cares in this place where you breathe in.
Nations fold under corruption and mire and no one gives a solitary fuck in this second.
And bad people go on to rule good people and winter steals life from everything.
And you breathe in.
And finally. After a second. A long, tortuous and serpentine thought. A world. Lifetimes. The mere whisper of a laugh. A conspiracy that won't catch on. A TV rerun. A minute in the cold air. An eternity in a warm cradle.
Someone calls your name.
And you breathe out.
And say goodbye, fuck-knuckle.

Our very own Tom Sawyer.