If I cough or sneeze my sparrow
just hold your breath like Lazarus the shark
and if your breathing becomes narrow
I'll turn off this glare
and make these dusty shafts of light depart,
if there's dust in the breeze and your alveoli,
those cauliflower, as sea anemones contract
to make those visiting breaths become shallow
I'll tap tap the barnacles off your back.
Sigh!

Our breathing it holds up the sky,
the fact makes my heart whistle like a kettle.
Of course I'll bring your Ventolin
ghosts of care give hope to December,
I know I'm being soft and saccharine,
but this thing is rare - archive it everywhere.