they say that all air is recycled air;
that the oxygen I’m breathing right now could have been
the final breath that stuck in Kennedy’s throat,
or Marie Antoinette’s last sigh.
it’s comforting to know
that I am never really alone;
I’ll always have history rushing to my cells.
But it’s the middle of the night when I’m loneliest.
so I take a deep breath,
and wonder if the air in my lungs
still holds traces of you
(cause I’ll hold my breath forever to keep you with me)
So my name is Joey White and I’m a very pasty pale British white guy at uni overseas. So I was introducing myself and this guy from Nigeria goes “Hi, I’m Joseph” so I said, “I’m a Joseph too! Joseph White.” Then he looked me in the eye and said in a dead serious tone “I’m Joseph Brown” and we nearly died.