a lot like me
with both hands cupped
around my lips, as if
trying to save
one breath
for the future—then
flinging
the door shut
to the freezer
where it's kept,
so that way,
I won't have to
chase it down
and catch it
at the end
of that sentence,
with no liturgy left
on which to depend
and no
ritualistic dance step
on which I might
elaborate—