It not only keeps me alive,
it’s a safe place I return to
whenever my luck runs out.
My breath always embraces
me when no one else is there.
If the rug gets pulled out
from under me and no one
sems to care, it speaks the
language of love in every
language known to man.
A life that never needs to
be rescued does not exist.
I keep knocking on wood
to have breath to return to
until my knuckles are bled dry.