Black lung exhaling
death purged germs explode
into atmospheric chaos.
If we could only see the beauty
in exhaled death
we might see a pattern
to life without living.
sorry beauty brings out my morbidity
its not your art
its me
that's darc
i exhaled
deeper and further
and moreso and more
to a time before time
to an age before yore
to a place where the sun
neither heats nor lights
to a condition wherein i could finally
breathe you in
pure.