How vain
to think
that I’m the only one
deserving of your breaths.

Not presently,
but before,
and future.

Presently, too, I concede.

If arrogance is driving
you to me,
or to us,
as in those that were,
like a taxi
with the most gracious pilot
politely asking you to fasten your belt
to tether you to the busted seats,
then I would be happy to have it break down

in my driveway.