She got my number from her sister Elizabeth.
She spoke in a voice, bearing resemblance to the silkworms the Europeans stole.
She used to date a guy from Hixson who drove a 1956 Chevy Bel Air.

I drove a Toyota.
I didn’t smoke cigarettes, or drink alcohol.
I went to NOVA, the community college.

She texted me: Good Morning; She texted me: I’m thinking about you.
She told me, over the phone, about her car accident, before her family.
She found a new boyfriend: Mark. A mellow skater.

I took my first creative writing class with a Professor as my poet.
I wrote poems about her, long ones, and short ones. Showed them all to her.

I spoke with her over the phone; told her I loved her.

When she didn’t respond.
I hung up.