A human brain can only go a few minutes without oxygen. Suffocation is a means of rotting. Damage catalyzed by this phenomena is quick and devastating.

As you released that breath,

The breath that held a tangle of vibrations-
Vibrations that wove through and around themselves, and each atom in this space between us-

did you wish you could catch your exhale in cupped palms, fold it with clean creases, and place it back under your tongue?

The vibrations unfurled themselves on my lap, now heavy with the weight of the posed question contained in that breath-

"do you see me?"

knee-**** under the weight of what you'd asked,

"of course."

As you slept,
I collected your foolishly inquisitive breath- balled up like a receipt underneath your bed,
Ironed out the wrinkles,
And slid it into the back pocket of yesterday's jeans  

I gave this breath back to you,
hoping that when I left,
you would have more than just a few minutes before they couldn't repair the damage