our voices cross oceans and continents; each sigh and breath dancing all the way from your bedroom to mine. i press the phone closer to my ear, close my eyes and listen, like maybe it can help me picture you there, within touching distance, a smile drawn across your face, eyelids droopy with sleep, fingers tracing the lines of my body.
after each sentence i pause, listen to your breathing and make sure you're still there, hung on my every word, like i am yours.
hours of this. you, shy and quiet, laughing gently and beautifully. me, carrying conversation, telling you stories and weaving lines of poetry into your day, crossing time zones, while i should be asleep.
after minutes and minutes of both of us saying goodbye but neither of us hanging up, i love you is what i softly whisper. you don't hear me and i don't mind, because you murmur it to me without thinking, quiet too, almost like it was never there, like i imagined it all.
of course you hang up first, of course i lie there for hours after, with the phone still pressed tightly to my ear, trying to burn the entire conversation into my brain to replay over and over when you are the one asleep, while i am still awake.