As I rest my head onto the pillow,
Waiting for my friend to wrap me up and portal me to the world of my subconscious,
I acknowledge the silence that strangle the walls surrounding me.
But as I listen carefully,
I become aware of a rhythmic sound of air;
I didn’t realise my breathing can be so loud when accompanied by silence,
Reminding me of his exhales at night.
And a thought crosses my mind;
If I am the reflection he sees in the mirror,
Then our breathing can be the same.
If I am his, and he is mine,
Then the air I breathe is his own.
I don’t need to hear him breathing in order for me to relax and sleep,
All I need
To listen to myself
As if he was on the phone.