Injury Poem by Zyw Zywa

Are you my exercise
of feeling breath
in my body and feeling it
rise to a storm?

Am I your exercise
of listening, only
asking a question
when I dare not go on

to throw up fragments
of facts and confusion
in fits and starts
of silences

which you undergo
without comfort, without
getting closer, that close
you are already

confident
that I dare to
breathe deeply, cry
and go on

searching
in the dark
discovering
how I can?