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The day you died I thought-

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I want to move around unseen       whisper
my breath over your brow       brush my fingertips       along
your jaw       slack

I’d like to draw your breath            in       for you,
pull           your lungs into a crest               push them back           down

I can only turn, look, trace
lines between motes in the air
hear your voice

that feather on my kitchen floor

Cathy Socarras Ferrell is a second-generation Cuban-American poet, writer, and educator from Central Florida. She finds inspiration in walking (anywhere), family, and the Sandhill cranes in her yard. She enjoys playing with form, space, and the sounds of language. Her work can be found online at Poetry Breakfast (upcoming), Red Noise Collective, Quibble.Lit, sinkhole, and Compulsive Reader, and in the scholarly collection, Shakespeare and Latinidad, edited by Trevor Boffone and Carla Della Gotta. Connect with Cathy at