It rings along with the rim of beginning,

say, "Hi!" to the other side, until the concrete

conversation come to a halt, you think what's there

to say anymore? Gripping the telephone wires

tightly, I think if it's a finality in your tone or something

is there to say once more. Once a friend said,

I don't like bidding adieu, kill the mood of meeting

again, maybe they're right— we should've left

some words to say, alas it can't be reciprocated.

*

even when I look through the passerby, a mutual simile

of smile is transported, I think it's a bye of enabling

another beginning, or a random line to blur vision

to never see again. Mayhaps it's a lost connection,

when we're trying to find the clops to talk,

should I bid you a good-bye or just saying to hold on,

"See you next time," but you cut the line already

goodbyes aren't really good after all,

maybe the omnibus volume of shutting dabbled.

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