These days, sometimes he’ll call and I am busy and he is self-involved and I snap and he snaps back and I hang up. I text him that I will phone later but, often, I forget my promise. Sometimes he’ll call and he’ll tell me his news, some village gossip that I can barely follow but I listen anyway, and when I yawn he laughs and I laugh too. Sometimes he’ll call and I don’t feel like talking. Sometimes he’ll call and it is just so good to hear his voice. And every time he calls, my heart races. My heart will always race.
