you can try

in the meantime, may i hold your hand?
i want—could i know,
memorize the fingers
turning the pages?

the cold would give us a run for it
days spent like money
turning leaves, leaving friends
lighting cigarettes lightening the mood

at icy twilight, as close as i could
in the basement i thought i saw
skin-stars under your pores
i close my eyes to hear

and here i breathe in the light
inhaling bright smoke
as oxygen.

night air-- clear crystal
driving through the dark and
finally breathing like i mean it.