Breathing

My hand rests quietly on the wooden table.
I breathe through my mouth, for my nose is clogged.
In and out, deep breaths.
I sigh a wide yawn to let the life air in.
I brush the strands of hair off my brow,
And tuck them carelessly behind my ear,
So that they peek around it.
Another long sigh as I rub my eye.
Outside is a thing moving,
But I like it inside.
Quiet, and the air just kind of plays with you,
By running down your throat,
Through your lungs and out again.