portion of the artwork for AE Reiff's poetry

AE Reiff

When it comes to talk
everything is song,
a water breath for gills
breathes song and sings,
breathe song and sing,
they sing, they sing,
Everything has breath.
Everything that has breath.

Everything with breath connects
beneath the silent disconnect,
pure as flame that disappears
in sight and sound forget.

It comes to all who breathe
that water breath, gill song,
a temporary exhalation
that everything else that will have breath
is breathing all along.

Yourself, to meditate a roof below,
communes a creature like no other,
so unique at times at least to say
no matter what I knew that day
when everything had breath. Here I am.

Breath inspires talk,
language, expression, thought,
suddenness of wings,
a base of wind, of dust and sun,
cry of a moment, each moment timed,
three hundred eternal
breathes with the same.
Anything that’s done or so recalls
is breathing the same breath as all.

That’s what breath in search of talk
like any unique thing means,
Sound of breath.
Everything seeks song unconfined,
for air and water breathers’ breath of gills
breathe life, breathe song and sing. They sing. They sing.
Everything has breath.
Everything has breath.
Everything that has breath.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 57 | Spring/Summer 2021