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rainy day phone calls
i dream of being where the curves of green
join hands with the gray beyond,
where a misty curtain embroidered with silver
envelops.
how could one get to such place, you ask?
well, glance over here
see where the last thread of gold spills over salmon tiles?
grasp on to that.
that, and the kindling wish of sitting alone in a dot of red-
a lonely telephone booth amidst the curves of green
tucked safely in a misty gray envelope.
i dream of hearing simmers of soap suds on the other end of the phone
a child picks up, nestled in the left crook of the bathtub, a green toy ship in hand.
she disappears into the arms of a towel,
a lone green ship topples.
why did you go, you ask?
glance over here
see the drop of silver dangling under the dimly lit balcony lamp?
grasp on to that
that, and the tiny envelope tucked safely in an uneven paper airplane
drifting out the hand of the child,
falling flat on the grass below,
waltzing
with
the
d
r
iz
z
le–
a paper airplane shaped hollow in my heart.
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