One Foot Away

You breathe like somebody who trusts the building.

In and out and in.

I count you instead of counting down.

Works. Then stops working.

Arm thrown across the middle

as though the middle were a place you could hold.

Your hand open.

Mine in a fist since one.

One foot away.

Bad end of it in here.

You are in a garden.

People in it who are dead now and have not been told.

Somebody in my position could

put a hand on your back.

Use the actual word.

He is also awake. He is also not doing it.

In the morning I will not tell you.

You will ask if I slept.

I will say on and off.

I will say