stolen my breath?
no —
this sensation of being captured, enraptured, consumed wholly and totally by the electricity of bearing witness to the work of art that is your soul —
it is like being given something greater than breath. you’ve NOT stolen my breath — rather, it’s as if I can breathe for the first time, as if I’ve taken a full and complete breath for the very first time in all of my days. you’ve filled my lungs with something better and greater than breath itself, and oh, now that I’ve seen, I long to never be without again, for a life without this is suffocation, asphyxiation, confinement and imprisonment.
23 years and perhaps I’ve just started living.
it’s like my eyes weren’t being used the way they were meant to until you blinked into focus, like my ears hadn’t ever listened to anything worth a damn until I heard you profess your dreams and aspirations.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 