poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

I phone from time to time, to see if she's 
changed the music on her answerphone. 
'Tell me in two words', goes the recording,
'what you were going to tell in a thousand'. 

I peer into that thought, like peering out 
to sea at night, hearing the sound of waves 
breaking on rocks, knowing she is there, 
listening, waiting for me to speak. 

Once in a while she'll pick up the phone 
and her voice sings to me out of the past. 
The hair on the back of my neck stands up 
as I catch her smell for a second 


Anonymous submission.

Added: 14 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 7:29 PM | Viewed: 4797 times

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