so long to call back
the first time the phone
rang i was beneath a
bridge when you rang
again the roar of cars and
cargo overhead made it too
loud to hear you sense of
sea partially obscured
by traffic but felt
when the phone rang
a third time i thought i
could be beneath
you could be water
on the other line if your
voice weren’t so ironed on
when i answer i don’t ask
if you still iron your shirts
every morning i let you
talk coral tone once
hot pink got too hot
bleached further down
darkness giving shelter
to shells mouthing
open and close when
i hang up i’m sweating i
feel the plastic floating
toward everything
image: Aaron Burch
