on my call logs your number’s one press away;
apres numerous delays suddenly now’s d-day.
under wary vision, my phone rang once and over.
a low chime came along, then a screech was blared,
followed a broken ding, is a **** no one has ever heard.
my lungs braced up more and more compressed oxygen,
as hovered my head were you on scenes could’ve happened;
my phone rang louder in my hand,
so loud my pulse cracked a rib open,
then the room heard a long sharp beep.
our call ended as my hands near yours were once no more;
hence prayed upon my soul here and now reaches yours.
For Joan