Tagged: phone

in silver springs, the

in silver springs, the
cherry blossoms are in bloom,
you pass this message

over the phone this afternoon,
joy blossoming with each word

history calls us

on a scale of walking

on a scale of walking
into traffic and
walking into the sea,
last night i
chose the sea,
and when i reached it,
you called me
out of the blue,
an accusatory tone
in your voice,
taking me back
to the days when
i’d arrive at my
childhood home
and not ring you up.
i was found out,
i leaned the
heaviness against you
so that i could
find a new
balance, and you
shifted so that you
could accommodate
the weight. i
wandered alongside,
instead of into,
though the sound of
the waves will always
compete with your voice

on your first birthday

on your first birthday
away, we yank a couple
of phone lines in
search of you, mouths
holding unspent wishes

summer peels away

all numbers are wrong

all numbers are wrong
numbers at two-thirty, when
the body has just
snatched a corner of
sleep, the thoughts of you
just loosening from
the soil of day

we dial into old

we dial into old
memories, expecting
the reception to be
clear, if not
and the heart
has a way of
parceling the lag
into milliseconds,
a near imperceptible
thievery. who knows
what the other is
really hearing
at this point
in the intrigue

and all of a

and all of a
sudden, we are
traveling the wires
together, our voices
tangled with joy
and longing,
syllables bumping
in the night

the calendar marks

the calendar marks
the days i do not
phone, each
blank page a soft
pearl to be
polished for a
longing that can
dissolve with
the right amount
of time
and vinegar

there are some

there are some
meditations that
work, strictly
by the phone,
where on the
inhale, you are
the epitome
of patience
while every
exhale re-
calculates relief