Within a wet hole in my body.

The thought of his tongue

Within the only hole 

That matters in my body, 

And no, 

Not my vagina, 

I mean my mouth. 

The only part that can smile

To leave a positive impression, 

Or even worse, a sarcastic remark.

The part that can speak and use

The weapon of words to serve 

A good or a bad cause or

Nothing at all.

The part that can let out a sigh

That is worth a million words.

The part that, if shut, can leave 

The strongest of meanings.

The part that, with the help of another

Like His mouth and tongue, 

Can show the most passionate of affection.

I can learn to sleep alone when you cannot be on the phone. 

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. 

Which means,

I don’t need to hear him breathing in order for me to relax and sleep,

All I need

Is 

To listen to myself 

Inhale

Exhale

As if he was on the phone.