I think of your breath,
As it would have sounded,
Grasping sterilized air, as you emerged.
The way it sounded in a crib,
An infantile gasp,
Facedown, not yet knowing how to sleep.
Short disgruntled huffs,
Learning to say so much with no words
As you pouted in petty defiance.
Hard panting in the gym,
As the teacher pushed the limits
Of your strong slender core.
I think of your breath,
The way it trails behind
Each pitch-perfect-note you sing.
As your hands shook
And your words left you alone,
Grasping anxiously at wind.
Like a message in a capped bottle,
The way your lungs expand
With breath that contemplates tender words.
The thick sweet moisture
That filled our paper-thin distance,
The first time you shared your lips.
I think of your breath,
As you sleep, with thoughts
Wild and unknown to me.
The tickling whisper
Of secret air shared
As you invite me in.
The hard and heavy sigh
That looms in the living room
When your day beats you down.
A trumpet of surprised sound
As laughter congregates,
Demanding you to inhale.
I think of your breath,
How familiar it will be
When we are bed bound with our air tanks.
