I wasn’t waiting for your call. I knew you would.
I didn’t bite off fingers, nervously awaiting.
I didn’t come for phone anytime
That it was late in silence as if flouting.

And I was walking on the street, so lazily and slowly.
And I was breathing calmly, evenly, full-breath.
And I continued living, saving plans and wishes.
I knew your call would come, there can be no pretexts.

And as it should be, my affairs caught me up
In its own dashing cycle with the head.
I don’t know how I actually forgot
About your call, which should be and no bet.

Yes, I forgot and you just didn’t call.
Let’s easy say that we’re kind of even.
I will go on. I’ll live without your call.
And you don’t call me, uselessly forgiven.