Cellular
ARC

somewhere inside
I'm sure,
I'm sure he's just forgotten
I'm sure he's very busy,
but why did he have to forget
the one who loves him?

I lie here, embowered
by box-springs
in my three-hundred thread-count prison
with the voice on the stereo
venting all my emotions
for my own voice is silenced
by sobs and longing

my tears hit the sheets
with the full impact
of everything I cannot say
(do tears stain cotton?
they stain my heart)

fetal position
alone
with the phone
cupped in my hands
like a newborn child
I silently beg it
to ring

I've given him
my heart
my body
my everything;
the least he could give me
is his voice
signals and desire
sent through the dusky air
to the phone
waiting
in my trembling hands

hours later
silence prevails
and I reach out
to turn off the light,
but I have been lying in darkness
since forever
so I continue to lie
and wait
not for him,
not for his voice,
but for sleep
to overtake me