I punched in your number.
Played with the telephone wire.
Fidgeted as I waited for you to pick up.
You said hello.
I said hello.
And you laughed.
My voice, in its excitement, rose a pitch higher.
Your voice and its echo collided with my echo.
We converged for a millisecond.
Then we both quiet down.
Cause there was a limit.
There’s always a limit.
You said bye.
I said the same.
Except mine faded to a whisper.
I couldn’t let go.
But I had to put the handset down.
I leaned against the wall.
I miss you.