i slid the phone gently against my ears. the buzzing at the other end of the line reverberated through my hollow linings drum set.
i am regretting this moment.
will this be tomorrow’s lamentation?
ephemeral butterflies, yet, more caterpillars to come – how, how ironic.
just in my head – the cacophony of crocs on a damp pavement
his pellucid whisper of a melody – is that you, mozart? bach?
“i can explain”
the first three stodgiest words to express myself.
and so, it began.
out of seven point one two five million people living on this earth, i had dialled his number. the mandatory kickstart of “hellos how do you do” certainly was not our cup of tea. we hopped into a submarine and plunged subaqueous waters – chortling at childhood bummers and arbitrary ho hum entertainment better known as, politics (or maybe not). we conversed from our ambiguous signals of depth to whimsical tales of castles in the air.
and so, it continued.
my puerile ringtone echoed through the halls of merriment.
the metamorphosis over, some sort of volatile transient raw emotion.
the dopey 60s way of two words used to begin a velvety conversation.
i answered, and i’ll keep answering.