I never knew how to breathe before you.
I only knew how to inhale
and exhale without purpose, without thought.
I always spoke as an assault.
I have swayed when my heart worried,
came right back to the tide, and the breeze—
I am not a romantic,
I am a brute,
quarantined.
I have never loved correctly.
I have done what most cowards do,
become a mute.
In my breath now,
I catch purpose,
I leap in sorrow
and the universe
soughs in approval.
