And
I turn around
when the phone rings, so
the glass falls to the
floor, the water spills and
I’m glad it was plastic
as I pick up the
receiver and hear
his voice - it’s scratchy
like his stubble - asking
me if I’ve eaten yet
and have I been to that
new
Thai place and can
I be ready in twenty minutes,
so I hang up the
phone and the last ray
of sun slides through
the red cup in its puddle
and plays on my face, and
I am radiant.
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