There are things that can't be said
and things that can. The words I wanted
faltered somewhere between that, lead
me into three-party space, haunted

by the spirits of disconnection. Another
voice, electric speck, crowded out
the strumming quiet, aimed to smother
the line with static. I had to shout,

begged directory assistance for divine
intervention. Each ring was violence,
a quick shock to the emptiness of the line,
bullying an ear accustomed to silence.

I strung a few breaths over the wires as bait,
let the phone keep ringing, settled in to wait.