I'm trying to increase myself though my blood's collected dust.
A breath was borrowed but never returned,
a gasp floating on the breeze.
I want to keep the here and now
and bring it back another day.
Their little brains and what they knew made them linger in the past.
Their little brains, aching and new, were left sleeping on the grass.
Our children are all released since the river flushed them clean.