Something that doesn't die can't be beautiful

How do I explain

there is no tenderness

in the sum of shared memories 

I know something that doesn't die 

can't be beautiful

enthralled by permanence

all the did and didn't happen

building absence out of the still small voice

only begets strangers

no two breaths are the same

when the voice is intrusive silence

I want to erase desire

memories do not care

where breath is self-consuming

how do you carry my breath under your tongue still