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I was going to make your phone number the title of this poem but I finally forgot it
I.
it was one year ago,
today
when you asked me:
what if summer comes and changes us?
in fifteen minutes it will be may, i said,
summer is already here. summer, has already changed us
i mean,
you started again
what if we're never these kids again?
we never will be.
we've already changed too much to go back
a few seconds, and then:
i'm just scared summer will come
and we won't talk again
i laughed, a year ago
i was always so sure of myself
if we ever stop talking,
send me a song.
II.
it was eight months ago,
i called you on the phone again
we hadn't talked in a while
but you hadn't sent me a song,
either
in between saying
in quantum physics, reality does not exist until it is
measured
and
Retrocausality is the idea that
events in the future can change the past
i came to the realization if i said
i love you
you wouldn't say it back
if i were then who i am now
the words would never have left my mouth
but they were true,
and i was always so fond of the truth
i love you crossed two miles by phone
the silence that followed was worse than the inevitable
spoken truth, you
no longer felt the same
and before that silence choked me completely
i hung up.
III.
you never sent me a song
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