Deep breaths

That breath that passed between them in the dark has almost completely vanished now. For awhile she tried to hold it in her chest, only allowing for shallow breaths. And he attempted to take breaths few and far between to make the supply last. But eventually both had to exhale and eventually both had to seek a new supply.

She wonders less and less what is floating in his mind, no longer tries to imagine his pocketful of secrets and their implications on the dissolve. After all, he chose to go away before most, if not all, were divulged. He chose no to share, not to risk. He chose something other than her.

When he sees her, he worries less and less that she can still see deep inside him, see what he is hiding, what he is willing to go away. It used to fluctuate between making him uncomfortable and exciting him, and the space between them now relieves the anxiety surrounding the fluctuation.

And finally, only occasionally now, deep asleep he tastes her on his lips and the breath he inhales slowly and deeply is familiar and soft. Similarly, only every so often are her dreams full of his color and vivid enough for her to taste and smell and feel him as she used to.

Yes; there are two breaths now, separate in time, rhythm, and most of all space.