sweet on you since that first talk

it starts off as a twitch in my toe then slinks up my calf and into my knee. it hibernates. i shake uncontrollably. the nervous wakes up in my stomach and sets off the hunger pains. small growl. bigger growl. i grab the reciever. i look in the mirror, add lip gloss. this is not a video phone. he can't smell my lips through the reciever but it's the most i've cared about my appearance in months. it takes me ages to dial the number. i just stare at the phone. i burn the numbers into my fingers. i trace the outline of each number. a practice try. my voice quivers in my throat. i need water. i'm just distracting myself.
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i like when he laughs and when he drops the R's in words. it's subtle. i feel like i'm talking to a friend. someone i always knew. i could type out all the cliches but you know them all. i really like the way he hoards all the phones in his bedroom like a garden of recievers. i keep saying, "i need to go to sleep" and never hanging up. i'm pretty sure these would just be the places i would smile a lot, but the phone can't deliver a hug, much in the same way it can't deliver quiet sentiments through eye contact. i keep worrying about wrinkles when i'm older. the tiny "crow's feet" from you making me too happy. 
¶ 4:14 PM |