Breath

I have no nitpicks for this one, a rare occasion indeed. Usually, I have at least a suggestion for an alternate phrasing, even if nothing missed the mark, but I have none of these, either.
I did have to read this repeatedly to make sense of something you didn't insist had any sense to make. I will note that if this what you do while sleep-deprived, keep it up and don't operate heavy machinery or drive while writing poetry.
Let's do specifics: I love much of the phrasing, and the fact that you explore tactile and other senses instead of the usual visual or aural. The descriptions themselves, especially the bookend "Your breath is liquorice and / ocean mist and / I can taste the salt" is unique in my reading and instantly evocative. Or, more simply: "I can taste your poetry."
I also loved "abdomen of tangled twine", though I almost nitpicked your use of "edges"; wouldn't twine have "ends"? However, it did no harm to my enjoyment and you'd lose your meter, so it's far from a high priority.
"Goosebump heaven" is also a fine line. I nicked a half-star each from originality and technique only because writing about your presence in bed is not 100% new and the reference to "salt" is also a more familiar element, but that was nasty as I got with this poem. Nice work!