The way her chest falls and rises again
to come back and meet with her clothes,
I find it comforting - not sure why,
but I do.

Maybe, It's because when I see her breathing in,
Slowly, relaxed, on time,
She can do it, so then I know,
So can I.

The waves come in and hug the sand,
Just like her chest does in breathing.
I come in to hold her hand,
but she's forever leaving.