If it takes 11 messages
To get 10 "seens"
Picking up your phone 9 times
Talking to 8 friends
With 7 telling you to forget it
But 6 thoughts run in your head
And 5 are pretty good ones
I'd think 4 words
Regret it maybe 3 times
But after 2 deep breaths
I'd take that 1 good chance
And say,

"Maybe we could work"

And by "we," I meant the 2 of us.
We'll count to 3, and the  we'll be
Happier and louder than the 4th of July.
Our hands meet; ten fingers become 5,
After 6, the sky is bleak
But we have 7 more hours to sleep.

By 8, we have coffee and conversation
And you leave me after 9 train stations
I ride alone for 10 more minutes
You've already left 11 new messages
I called you and you pick up at the 12th ring

I said, "come home," and I hear you crying

So maybe we go round gain
Here and there, tying knots and ends
For if a countdown ever would be
I wish the best for you and me

Because numbers are there
So things may seem fair
But truth is, no matter the stage
It is with you I'd like to age