Oxygen

I breathe you out
and breathe you in
as you restore my lack.
With your passing,
fine hairs on my arms
stand at attention,
as though reaching out
for the mere touch
of you.

You surround and enter me,
then beat a hasty retreat,
in and out like children
passing through
a kitchen door.
Needing something,
then needing to be gone,
 called in again
by request or need.

You fill and nourish me.
You lift my tresses
from my shoulders,
tangle my fringe,
blow the insignificant
from my life.
Deposit autumn leaves,
like sad reminders
of your passing.

For the dVerse Poets Pub prompt: The elements.