I know because
it is in the sound
of your voice
do my own breaths
pause to reset
and catch up
to the rhythm
of your attention
be it divided
misguided
or right
on point
it rise and falls
my chest
at the whim
of your next word
for those moments
until the words stop
and life support
consists of
a feeding tube
of memories
of you
this flesh
is kept alive
by this heart
buried beneath
and you
so easily
reach
each time
tickling the
backs of my knees
and it's crazy
trying to speak
with legs weak
head spinning
what is this
this feeling of
not losing
not swimming
not winning
just drifting
cloud nine like
maybe
or something
like that
that
separates you
from yourself
following a voice
that's there even if
you can't hear it
and gives way to love
by way of a
self-yielding spirit