I knew a girl whose worries
piled up like fog,
weighing nothing
and yet she could not lift them
to get out of bed.
I held her hand
and thought how hard
it must be to breathe
when your belly is clogged
with fear.
Just then we looked out the window
at a few rays of sun
that had fought their way
through the grey.
I said they looked like straws
the sun sent down
for us to drink up her light.
She breathed a little deeper
and I held her hand.
I breathed too,
in and out,
until we were breathing together,
which felt so perfect
in that moment,
she wondered out loud
if it wasn’t the other way around
and the sun
had come to us
for a sip.