Across the Steppe - Pontiak

Sit across my wooden table

And reach across and take my hand.

I guarantee you’ll feel the warm as if

It were your own breath leaving with

No hello, no goodbye

Breathe into my outstretched hand

And leave into it all the life you can.

I guarantee you’ll feel the warm as if

It were your own breath leaving with

The lungs that you used to speak to me

When i am unable to reach

Out of my place.