The Anatomy of an Unanswered Call
“To the ringtones that never brought a voice back.”
Audio Verse Recitation
Listen to this poem recited with gentle cadence
Four rings that tumble down a hollow wire,
each tone a tiny flicker of desire.
Then clicks the automated voice polite,
that leaves me standing in the kitchen light.
How easily a person can erase
the warmth of skin, the memory of a face.
A glowing screen that darkens in my hand,
a silence neither heart can understand.
I set the glass down on the wooden ledge,
and step away from longing’s ragged edge.
If love is something one must beg to keep,
then let me close my eyes and choose to sleep.
