from crepuscular orations
my own breath beating, the blood beating.
my breath hasn't come in gasps,
and then I am up and breathing again for a moment;
I am no longer breathing in hefts.
his shallow breaths,
guilty breath
is like a breath
the true breath I utter is not to be used
sighing, breathing,
I'm breathing him in as much as I can.
and his breath, too smells good somehow,
I'm breathing little smoky breaths into the pillow.
my breath was caught,
combining to form words of thick breath,
the sound of my breath echoing over a postcard.
every breath I breathe a worse one.
aubergine hair and scented breath & shoulders & neck...
Then we breathed in our cigarettes, wide-eyed.
He began to emit short breaths and low moans.
in the same breath.
and his breath I disliked,
breathing into my neck,
just breathing, slowly, slowly, slowly.
and he's nearly breathless.
Now we can all breathe sighs of relief!
His breath I dislike and his lips are soft and formless.
That burning heartchoke and breaths of slight ecstatic jubilation.
from momentos preciosas
and he chuckled and breathed like a maniac and he understood.
