I Want Your Breath

Lyrics

[Intro]

Stephen, your theory lingers here,
in this dim studio at 5:30 AM,
March 2016, when that study whispered
of hearts syncing without words.

[Verse 1]
You sit across from me on the frayed cushion,
from that old shop on Elm Street,
the one with the lavender diffuser humming low.
I clip the pulse oximeter to your finger,
98 percent, steady as the dawn light
slipping through bamboo blinds.
Bessel would say this is co-regulation,
from his book in 2014, the body keeping score
in tidal volumes, milliliters of air shared.

[Chorus]
I want your breath,
the slow draw of it,
filling lungs at 68 degrees,
exhale warming my skin.
Polyvagal portal, shifting us
from defense to this quiet tie,
vagal tone rising like the sun outside.

[Verse 2]
Remember the lab in Chapel Hill, 2010,
Kok and Fredrickson charting upward spirals,
heart rates weaving in biofeedback hum.
Your inhale pulls mine,
diaphragm app on the phone beeps tempo,
chamomile tea cooling beside the mat.
No words, just the creak of wooden floors,
as we lean into 10 minutes of sync,
emotional threads binding without touch.

[Chorus]
I want your breath,
the slow draw of it,
filling lungs at 68 degrees,
exhale warming my skin.
Polyvagal portal, shifting us
from defense to this quiet tie,
vagal tone rising like the sun outside.

[Bridge]

The missing voices, yoga teacher adjusting posture,
lab tech's calm nod in the sterile air at 72 degrees.
Their unseen hands guide this,
but it's your rhythm I crave,
the autonomic flex, positive emotions blooming.

[Verse 3]
In the afternoon reset, 3 PM,
respirometer tracing curves on the screen,
we breathe through the fog of day,
smell of antiseptic fading into lavender.
Porges' pocket guide open on the floor,
2017 edition, pages marked with our notes.
This is the portal, the shift,
from run to rest, together.

[Outro]

I want your breath,
forever in this dawn light,
synced and safe.