before july makes sense
and august becomes
what it becomes
one breath after another
can still become
a way for you to become
fully alive in the middle of it
even before it all makes sense
even before it all makes sense
it’s the last week of july
it’s the last week of july
and during this time
it may seem
you must try
to make sense of july
before the start of august
and the rest of august
and before september
and before october
you try to think it all over
you try to think it all over
you try to finally be over it
finally be over it
but what if you’re not over it
what if you’re not over it
and you’re still
in the middle of it,
in the last week of july:
a rainy, heated sigh,
but something in you
still tries
to take
this next breath
a breath
a breath
the smallest thing
the smallest thing
a breath
a breath
the smallest thing
not everything
but it is still
a breath.
a small amount of wind
over and over again
through deserts of things
summers of things
a small amount of wind
is still a story* unfolding,
one breath at a time
is still a story unfolding
*a story, a sequence of events
a story, is a sequence of events
unfolding
unfolding
a sequence of events,
through the storms
and sunlight
of may,
june,
july:
a story
not easily written
and filled with
“I-don’t-know-why’s”
a story
not easily written,
but also
a story
no longer hidden,
over half a year gone
and you are still here,
among music,
mountains, valleys,
joys, angers, dreams, and fears
breath
by breath
you are still here.
breathing through it all,
air moving through it all
and where air moves
is nothing small.
where air
moves
through
space
nose
mouth
throat
lungs
space
is nothing small.
many words scribbled through.
whole pages scribbled through.
many plot points not carrying out
like you were told
they were supposed to
but a breath is still forming
that seems opposed to
saying that was where the story ends.
you keep breathing
over and over
again
so maybe at least
one breath
can believe
this story
is not
finished yet
sunday
monday
tuesday
wednesday
thursday
friday
saturday
by saturday,
it will be august
and if
you run out of time
to explain july
before
july ends
please remember the winds
of a thousand little breaths
a sequence of events
a full life
a moving life
a breathing life
even before
it all makes sense
-Morgan Harper Nichols
