s s s s s s s s s s s s s

A sound on the line. Not a voice.
Just a hiss.

 

Static.

 

 

“Amara?”

 

 

s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s

 

“Baby, if you can hear me, please. Say something.”

 

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S

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S

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S

 

I can’t do this. Can’t speak. I only curl in the orange glow of morning, face in my hands. The static sings through the speaker on the pillow by my head. Your smile on the screen. Connected.

02:12

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I listen. I need to hear. Hear you there. Hear something, in that river of static. Some rumor, some whisper. Something. Anything.

But you say nothing.

My voice is broken. My eyes write verses for you instead, fat wet strokes across my cheeks, dark ellipses stain my pillow.

 

. . .

 

without end

 

poetry I could never fathom,
every beauty I ever failed to utter
right there on the damp fabric,
empty room filling
with static
with poetry
with sunlight anguish static
static doubt anger
static loathing
despair
static
filling
with rage,
with hurt,
with aloneness, with
static
with

 

with regret with

 

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with

 

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When I wake again, the river is quiet. Sit up. Grab the phone. Touch the screen. Dead.

 

Was I dreaming? How far back?

 

Did I dream you? Could I

have dreamed
the most
p  e  r  f  e  c  t
thing

 

No. I need to go back. Keep looking. You’re out there. Wandering. Searching.

I need the chamber. I need to talk to Soliman. Convince him to let me back in. Take the goddamn psych test. Whatever it takes.

 

 

 

 

The sun is setting. Outside my window, cicadas begin their newest symphony.

 

“See?” You said, ear against the glass. 
“It’s beautiful. They play to no one, and anyone who will listen.”

 

 

 

Amara.
I’m listening now
for all its worth

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