leave the phone by my side

front flap closed

sound app on 


face the mic to her body

stereo and angled and casual  

too dangerous for videos in public

too risky for snapshots 

it's her voice I want 

young, melodious, alive 

a balm to old bones

quickening the blood

a safe song in a world of noise

It's her voice I want in my head

her white uniform 

clean teeth, scabs on her knee

red smudge on white skirt

after school scent

tender flesh of her cheeks -

these things can stay silent

etched in memory 

It's only her voice I want

kept on disk as file

her laughter, her stories 

transferred, saved, edited

lines sliced out

snippets of giggles

the way she says “teacher" and “lord" and “it’s o.k."

the way she says "descendants of the Sun" or “I’ll be so happy"

all these words, in her voice 

amplified, repeated

a drug, sequenced, telling me things

secretly, playfully 

the sound of close company 

her sighs, delightful 

such endless listening 

lasting the night 

on and on and on her voice 

alone with me in the dark


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