a swirling bend in the atmosphere

this opening
allows me to feel stitchless and gaping,
the outbreaths of a hundred people filling
it
and the strange sound
of their swimming irises
doing laps over me
every day

i have gotten to wear a clock face
instead of my own.
my hands are tied to one another
telling the timelessness of it all,
all a little wander

every day
the outbreaths of a hundred people
bubble into the space of me

they refract
they squeeze
and they burst,
they leave me standing in their oxygen,
a swirling bend in the atmosphere