by Elizabeth Lombard
Greeted by a loud hostile voice,
I hide my thoughts behind my teeth.
I wince at the abrasive noise
the silence the click bequeathed.
My delicate ears invaded
my belly's butterflies revived
while the life of the screen faded
only the dead numbers survived.
I'm left without any answers
my consciousness has kicked in
my fingers nimble, like dancers
dial the mad the caller again.
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