one last breath

if I am granted one last breath

let me taste your kiss again,

delicate, sweet, and filled with life 

all over your tongue,

if I am granted one last breath

I want to taste the vanilla pudding mom made

when I was a toddler in Cuba and we had nothing,

—it was sweet heaven in a spoon,

if I am granted one last breath 

I want to ride the train to that small town with grandma

where we drank hot chocolate

and ate freshly baked bread with butter,

and I want to eat passion fruit on the tractor with dad,

and meet my sister again,

and have grilled cheese sandwiches with you at the airport,

and hold your legs as you birth our son,

and walk once again across the stage for my degree,

and get drunk with you again, 

and have another pizza and a horror movie night,

and one more taste of ice cold water,

and another cup of coffee,

and one more drop on that roller coaster

with my cousins,

one more chance to make things right with

everyone,

one more chance to see my lost best friend,

one more chance for forgiveness,

one more chance to feel the sun caress my cheeks,

one more breath that encapsulates a lifetime,

one more breath of pure bliss,

one more incarnation of happiness,

one more minute of waves crashing on my skin,

one more hysterical laughter from our son,

one more minute of my favorite song,

one more sight of your smile,

one last chance to say: 

“I am ok. This is happening, this was life,

and this is death.”

and I will greet her with kindness 

and let her swallow me in her embrace,

as I spread my arms widely and whisper

with any remaining strength:

“I lived”

Flash Issue 10