Pitter-patter is the only dominant sound
I hear-
Aside from your precise breathing,
The chimes on your neighbor's door.

Sitting upright,
I keep my ears open, keen on catching
Silent kisses or
Whispers of sweet nothings
Nothing.
I fear nothing,
I fear the only
Sound left to hear would be that of
Doors slamming
Shut.
Unless diving into dimly-lit wells
And matches scratched on semi-rough surfaces
Produce gentle crackling sounds of burning,
(Still burning) ember.
Something that which likens
Sheets rustling or
Hair-messing
Or
Me shuffling.