Thinking about me,
She starts longing,
For me & my touch.

She coils in her bed,
Missing me she smiles,
The pillow in her clutch.

Twinkling in the sockets,
The two dwindling stars,
She sinks deep in the bed.

But she could only imagine it,
How my manly touch would be,
Soft & sensual or strong & rough.

Pitch dark nights she spends awake,
Whispering my name from far away,
She swings alone in crests & troughs.

Missing me dearly & often complains,
Satiating her with my words & poems,
That's all that I could supply her with.