Telephone

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.
We talked.
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.
And cried.

I miss you.

Fabricate

You put down your book
You take off your glasses
You head off to your kitchen
You warm a cup of milk
You change into your pjs
You plug in your earphones
You click shuffle
You sip on your milk
You stare out at the night sky—

—I stare out at the night sky
And wish you’re gazing at the stars too
I just made some fabrication
On every possible life you’re having right now.

Stopping By

You said I looked like
Some girl you know.

Do you like her?
Doesn’t matter, I guess.

Cause at least,
I crossed your mind.