i breathed in. and I breathed in. and I breathed in
and it felt
different every time. a new gulp
sliding into my asthmatic lungs like a saxophone solo.
one breath was soggy and damp like a
tarnished towel in an unfinished basement.
the second, an old classic shuffled with
antique dust and librarian fingerprints.
the third, a sunkissed and crumpled love letter. dedicated to
yours truly.

my soles are scuffed with your kisses.
and my neck raw and chafed from your breath.
but i only really wanted your
wind when
i was knocking on your door.

and i stumbled down the steps
when i lost my map
(an illustration of your homely smile)
and my keys
(a portrait of your palms on mine).

and i caught myself when i took
a breath. and another breath. and another breath.
and each one
tasted like raspberry and pomegranate sparkling water.

my soles are still scuffed, now
with polished edges. and i hope
to stumble and catch, but
now into your
arms.