Monday, August 8, 2011

thoughts on air

You can feel the air pressing against your skin.

Just a soft touch.

The fan's constantly twirling, but you still feel the air in gusts as if it were an outdoor breeze.

Your skin feels cool.

Like the feeling you get after you have a mint and you blow air from your mouth.

That tingling sensation.

You start noticing your breathing.


Somehow it feels like you could be breathing more. You could be living more. But there's something in your way.

You don't know what it is though.

Maybe the air is thicker than it should be.

Or maybe you just need to inhale more because there's less oxygen in this air.

Less oxygen in this air... as opposed to? You realize this is the only air you've ever breathed.

But you have the idea.

There's a different air you could be breathing.

One that your relatives breathed not that long ago, but you missed out on.

You wonder what your kids will breath.

The fan speeds around, chasing itself and never catching it. It kicks the old air around.

Against your skin,  you breath it in.

It's a soft touch.