Nine

Breathe breathing thick hot air.
Rancid and trapped within the tube of an enclosed waterslide.
Muffled sounds echo within my ears.

Breathe.
I am breathing gasping forcing air uncontrollably controlled and out of sync to a wholly new rhythm. Perpetual motion impeded by molasses imbedded around my feet each step drag dragging me down as I struggle with Newton and his Law.

Breathe.
Am I breathing?
Swallowing the air of stillborn words that prefer a mute existence and bind themselves in my throat.

Breathing breathy breaths I know I am breathing as I watch the rise and fall of my chest inflate and collapse.
Collapsing.
Collapsed.

The aloof coolness of concrete blankets my warm hot damp high cheekbones offering its indifference to my breathing.

Breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Each crescendo reminds me that I am breathing still.
Still.
The still uncirculated air oscillating in orbit around my body.

Yes.
I breathe.
Breathing breaths of unwanted heaves, but breathing nonetheless.