salt of being human

hiding away in a cave that some called a guest house
he listened sort of half way to the uncommon wind
gusting just outside
telling him to stay where he is
telling him that if he breathes deep enough
after shutting off all the lights
that maybe possibly
he can travel
to a place
that starts with SHE
and ends with an even deeper breath
that shakes
and radiates
with escape
with wetness that soaks forgotton hopes
and leaves two
in a bundle of one
that fades slowly
but dosent dare speak to ruin the moment
and put them back in the bright light
alone
and craving
just even the smell of clean hair
mixed with the salt of being human