Phone Call

You heard the familiar ring
that seemed to announce his call,

closed your eyes when you heard his voice
speaking words from
love poems that were never written

A cadence with pauses
as natural as the the silent moments
between the rhythm of a beating heart,

Verses of the freest kind

In which everything
meant I love you I
love you I love
you I love you I love you
I love
you I love you,

as it always has.

Your hands held a cup filled
with warm sweet coffee,

and then in one sip
you drank the afternoon itself.