you can have the brisk, ghostly breath
that lingers off my lips
creating smoke clouds at eye level;
the kiss of morning.

if i can have the invisible trail of tears
your swollen eyes left behind on your rosy cheeks
as your mouth unhinged, releasing a yawn
and your eyes squeezed shut.

you can have the iced air
weaving into my lungs
once i step out of my sanctuary;
the sillage upon the sheets.

if i can have the steam rising
above the scattered roses
in the blue hued water from the tub
that travels up your neck
and lulls you to sleep.

you can have the thick zephyr on a summer night
if i can have the pouring rain showering the streets

you can take all of the oxygen in my lungs
watch them collapse
right before your eyes.

if i can dive head first
into your ocean,
encompassed by white noise.