How do you feel about your diagnosis?

I could take or leave it.


Do you sometimes find it difficult to breathe?

Only when clouds stoop to eavesdrop on my conversations.


Whose lungs are tied to my string?

There are no lungs, there is no string.


Breath Balloons?

Not yet.


What faith do you consider yourself to be?

My Gods are too sluggish to pray to.


Who put this lotus in my chest?

Yes, yes…


Is it my breath?

Yes.


Is it your breath?

Don’t rob the sky of that kite.


And what of the moth?

He flies in the cave of your mouth, blows kisses toward your teeth.


Is doubt like a branch? Is hope like a sieve?

Pardon?


What flavor is heaven?

Bring me back to gills.