I'll wait for her calls in between shifts at work,
Or in between chapters of textbooks.
I'll wait for her voice to greet me through the static,
Having traveled five thousand kilometres.
It'll be love, it will be quiet,
and every time I see her on the limited rectangle of my screen,
Distance is an illusion.
In time, I will meet her, a roaring aeroplane will tear across the sky,
Over seas and oceans, mountains and wars,
and upon landing, in a timezone far away,
past the corridors and waiting rooms,
amidst throngs of waiting people,
I'll see her and it will be better than a thousand dreams.
