on the telephone

as the day turned to night and the numbers went passed my fingers

i imagined storys of how the conversation might go

and like a light that went on in the night i explored all areas

and couldn't find the words as my voice trailed off and like

a ice cube that thawed out before it reached the glass

that moment happen to reflect my hand as i couldn't

push the right numbers fast enough and still i hit

re-dial and all the operator thought was that i was

messing with numbers and didn't have a sentiment

to leave a actual message and such is the signal

as i hung up and never heard the dial tone