"Esther, I cannot say this,
Over the telephone"
"Why not? Is there something wrong?"
"Nope Esther no, there's nothing as such..."
Thinks to himself for a moment,
"You are perhaps the most beautiful song......"

"Hello you there?"
"Yes Esther, I had been wondering,
A cup of coffee, after work? Tomorrow?"
But all Esthers belong to the reader as you know.

And then again-" a okay would have been fine"
But he was out of balance, and you are
Reading a disconnected line.

And he needs Esther, Like hot chocolate and coffee,
But, The reader wants to know the music in between,
Mystical mysterious and it was a metaphysical time,
Connection is not always, a phenomenological rhyme.

"Hello Esther? You still there?"

"Nay,....,
I gotta go, but not tomorrow,
Maybe another time?"

The cars blinked in silence, with patience as a plan,
And, The roads were wet with water and wind,
The desires remained inside the buttons of the phone,
With memories and massacres, he went back home.

The reader, and Esther was now but nothing more than a lot less than few,
Endings perhaps never end with raindrops and dew.

And as, He laughed in a cage of a wondrous retreat,
He thought to help himself-" we are all but here to celebrate defeat. "