Jonathan Moskaluk
rare air

I
know
that you
lost yourself
when you found him there—
removed from our most bitter air.
He grew sick from the gases that give life to the group,
so he bagged up his own hissing mixture to breathe, but it swirled in his head on a loop
and we all learned that even the sun can snuff itself
for burning too brilliant and bright,
as he reeled towards
his last hour—
breathing
rare
air.