Voicemail
the sun watched him come, the moon saw him stay.
confiding in the sky and the lives it held captive,
but weeping as the world slept;
afraid to wake to a world without her in it.
he pricked at the numbness -
prodding the eternity beyond the moonshine,
dialing and redialing a number out of reach
just to hear the echoes of her voicemail:
more tangible than memories
yet never close enough
to goodbye.
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