When I inhale, I hope.
My blood cells, hope-rich, move my heart to purpose with thoughts of reconciling with you.
Then I exhale, ridding myself of poisonous regrets.
For one split second, I am empty and at rest, but also sad and absent meaning.
But then I think of you,
and my chest expands yet again.
I’ve done this 13,109,760 since you left.
761, 762, …