Oh no. It used to be here somewhere. I swear it, I’ve no reason to lie.
"Here" in some abstract sense, though. Not "here" like "I can pick it up with my hand."
Here in a way I could just feel it eking out a path around my neck
working its way, all at the same time, down the spine
and up across the skull
to my ear

I think, maybe, you took it with you when you left my house some weeks ago
Not to be cruel, or coy, or potent. Just because that’s the way these things work
Just, I got a little too used to it. Thought maybe it could be my own
But its yours, and it comes and goes along with you
You need it. I miss it.
Your sweet breath.