What exactly can, in life, we measure?
Could it be the successes we've achieved?
I say it is in the moments that took away
the breaths we desire to breathe.

Looking back and looking forward
I count those moments on one hand
but find gratuity in that number.
I'm the philosopher's demand.

One above him, I am; lying
as the sun warms my skin.
For my life has been defined;
I've reason to live; begin.

What occupied those numbers counted
as I cleverly defined life's intention?
It was my choice to see through the fog
that love was my benediction.

The first moment, I remember clear
as my breath had frozen mid-way
and nothing seemed more perfect.
I dared to kneel and pray.

Each moment sequential to it
I found a whispered breath,
for loving him in that moment
could bring me near to death.

A venomous emotion exchanged.
It became my drug, I am addicted
to being breathless in these moments.
My soul unfolds so unrestricted.

And everytime I am with him
he leaves me breathless explicitly
but it is in that moment that I know
this is life; for it is my philosophy.

For every breath he earns from me
I owe him a breathless glance.
'twas always the wise poets that wrote
that life was defined in true romance.

Seeing clearly through my fog
he holds me steady and life exists.
Breathless each, we breathe yet still,
for we breathe through our kiss.

Lying here, I keep counting,
for he has blessed me plenty.
Life is consuming our lost breaths
yet our hearts are not empty.

(c) BRH 2004