Dreamt of lungs last
night. Candy pink, elastic.
They'd last until
I'm old, shriveled
as the ones I keep, trapped
inside my ribcage. Might as well
be an iron cage.

Dreamt I unzipped my skin,
Pooled gracefully at my feet.
Was able to snap
each rib, plunge each bony finger
into chest cavity, replacing
ash grey for blush pink.

Sucked a cigarette to the filter
anyway, sinking deeper with each
rotten drag.

Wondered what it's like
to inhale, exhale. To connect
with strangers if not to ask
for a light.

Wondered what it's like
to have lungs,
pure and unblemished

.

.