I look but there are no messages. No calls coming or going. I see a smudge and wipe it away with my sleeve. Now there is only a picture I took of my own face- three quarter view, inner elf showing- looking back at me. And this is all I ever see when I look for you. My own reflection- my search, not yours- shows up every time. My heart is quiet. Too kind to say, I told you so. It's safe now to leave this room.
I have the rest of my life to miss your call.
dimanche, avril 03, 2005
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