Title: Talk

Some days,
I just want you to talk.
I'd give anything to hear your voice,
as you ramble on as you do.
When there feels like
there's broken glass in my throat,
and pain in my heart and head.
I just need to let
your words wash over me.
And though there's no substitute for real life,
I'll listen through the phone,
the sound of your words across the wires,
160 miles from home.
It almost seems enough to fill
the gap between here and there.
Phone lines that stretch across,
connecting me to you but offer nothing more.
And in the silence just past midnight,
I'm afraid to say "go to sleep"
because I'm not ready to say "goodnight".
When the dial-tone pulses in my ear,
I sit awhile in the silence
wishing you were here.
But I'll keep your words close to heart,
enough to get me through our
days apart, to make it 'til we talk.