Blur

when i hold
my breath i feel
you stir, ruffle, then start
to trash
till i acquiesce and suck
air down again
to sooth you back
to sleep (another
reason i believe
i'm separate
from this body's
sheathe, its wet
cocoon, home
to so many sublets (swoop,
aches, those worming
hunches who teem
in the nooks, the maw…), but you
are on the lease: i wish
i didn't know that no
matter how long
you stay, you won't
seem long enough
when you un-
grasp your perch
and exit with a splaying
gasp –

(after Emily Dickinson)