Minimal Air

 Joslyn Stanfield

I remember the best defense I had was to close my eyes and pray,                                 Pray that my eyes would open along with my throat.                                                           Pray that his hands, like a snare would find another neck.                                             Another neck to explore how far bones can compact before they give in on themselves.       I felt the tension build until I thought it was all over, until my body went numb.

Until my lungs gave in on themselves.

My body was giving up on me and my will was not enough to fuel my organs.                       The minimal air was like a fish on dry land.

Like a horse with a broken leg,                                                                                         A novel without a plot                                                                                                         Plants with no roots

And now, a human with no heart beat