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Poetry Club

Cell Phone


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♥ Cell Phone ♥


Sitting up at night, a bottle in my hand, 
your picture to my right atop my nightstand, 
my cell close to my ear, your voice comes in so clear,
it's almost like your here, but I'm alone I fear. 
Your words fill up the silence, like refreshing lemonade,
and through this glitchy science comes a sweet serenade. 
And in your voice I hear a twinge, and in your silence a tear...
And in your moan I see, that half-moon smile ecstasy. 
And though your far away from here, I feel you like a canvas, 
your soft skin with paint I smear till nothing's left between us. 
And as you speak I do grow weak like a child, oh so meek, 
and in my heart I pray the day you and I will get to say: 
"I love you". 
For I cannot with clean conscience confess, 
not without unnerving stress,
over the phone my love for thee, 
lest I should stay and you should flee. 

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