Visit (the)

Inside this camphor wood chest I have saved every breath,
Each exhalation, in glass bottles stoppered with wax
Since the day you began.

Your first breath is beautiful, filled with pathos and pain
I examine the vial often, latent and cool,
With tender revolutions, gentle as an ocean.

Each fugitive hair,
Cloud soft and translucent, is woven into
This fine cloth, a cats cradle for your breath.

Each flake of skin drifts in dunes slowly spilling
From upper to lower orb
The hourglass, measuring and predicting you
Atom by atom.