VOICEMAILS. (2000)
VOICEMAILS
Voicemails capture the apathy and indifference laced in your voice,
Echoes of detachment that linger like forgotten echoes in an empty hall.
The equilibrium has shifted, vast as the continental divide,
Where once I held a place of weight, now I drift on the periphery, no longer "important" here. Can it truly be that your world has narrowed so sharply,
Reduced to the quiet accrual of bad habits, whispered vices in the shadows,
And a romantic realm, intimate and sealed, population of two—
You and another, orbiting in a haze of shared secrets and stolen moments? That cackle, uniquely yours, resonant and unyielding as ancient glaciers,
Lurks deep beneath the surface of your face, waiting to fracture the silence.
This isn't vindictiveness rising from old wounds, no—
It's a quiet ache, a confession: I miss "you." That "you" concealed under layers of Egyptian Goddess oil, scented and sacred,
Wrapped in the frayed embrace of your Goodwill scarves,
The one who laughed freely, unburdened, before the divide grew wide.
Echoes of detachment that linger like forgotten echoes in an empty hall.
The equilibrium has shifted, vast as the continental divide,
Where once I held a place of weight, now I drift on the periphery, no longer "important" here. Can it truly be that your world has narrowed so sharply,
Reduced to the quiet accrual of bad habits, whispered vices in the shadows,
And a romantic realm, intimate and sealed, population of two—
You and another, orbiting in a haze of shared secrets and stolen moments? That cackle, uniquely yours, resonant and unyielding as ancient glaciers,
Lurks deep beneath the surface of your face, waiting to fracture the silence.
This isn't vindictiveness rising from old wounds, no—
It's a quiet ache, a confession: I miss "you." That "you" concealed under layers of Egyptian Goddess oil, scented and sacred,
Wrapped in the frayed embrace of your Goodwill scarves,
The one who laughed freely, unburdened, before the divide grew wide.
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