Dawn. When the chorus of breaths
resemble a body. Show me how to breathe
without falling apart 
on the grass. It's too easy, some days,
to open the doors. Walk out and lie down.
With spring there will be hunger
and the clouds will burst open. Breathe.
That's what your wounds are for. Tell me
I am not a house without exits.
Leave. I am used to saying things 
until my heart catches in my throat,
spitting it out until I leave a gash somewhere
deep inside. I will wait for it to heal. In summer's
early arrival, we will open our windows.
and I will reach out to kiss your tongue, our
exit wounds shut tight. 

Raian Abedin is a poet, a student of Biochemistry, and a contributor to The Daily Star.