The sun breaks against the sprain parkwaynand I'm convinced that beauty exists nbut only when my back is turnednso I close the space between breaks and heelnI'm starting to think that when my eyes closenthe whole world disappearsnnWe are holding our breathnand waiting to die from lonelinessnwe are holding our breathnwe are the dirt that eats its selfnnAre you holding your breath now?nis this moment perfect?