damp morning fog,
blindly I stand.
All to be seen,
a figure.
aspiration
cloaked by mist
blinded as I
It approaches.
Near but still blind
it stands
With each breath it takes
fewer I draw
We freeze.
A hand outstretches
I hesitate
Take it.
“You are warm.
Gentle.
Strengthening.”
Mist fades.
My desperate grip too tight
it pulls backward
fleeting aspiration.
damp morning fog,
blindly I stand.
All to be seen,
a figure.
I am alone.