I dial your number
but hang up before it rings.
It isn’t saved on my phone,
but in the tips of my digits
Imprinted in them like braille.
I try to find excuses to talk
but haven’t found any.
I remember the hugs your fingers gave mine
The way your thumbs scratched the back of my hands
Your reminders to sneeze in my elbows instead of the nook of my palms
And how the clutch of your clench reflected your mood.
I forgot what your voice sounds like
Maybe why I hear it in-between songs
or the constant stops in my train of thought.
I think about calling you
but not to exchange words,
to share silence
knowing we’re on the same line.
But---
It’s been years and I’ve never called,
Maybe sharing silence
is what we do best.
but hang up before it rings.
It isn’t saved on my phone,
but in the tips of my digits
Imprinted in them like braille.
I try to find excuses to talk
but haven’t found any.
I remember the hugs your fingers gave mine
The way your thumbs scratched the back of my hands
Your reminders to sneeze in my elbows instead of the nook of my palms
And how the clutch of your clench reflected your mood.
I forgot what your voice sounds like
Maybe why I hear it in-between songs
or the constant stops in my train of thought.
I think about calling you
but not to exchange words,
to share silence
knowing we’re on the same line.
But---
It’s been years and I’ve never called,
Maybe sharing silence
is what we do best.