Are you okay, she asks
from wherever she is.
A storm settles on the wires between us.
I listen for the desert in her voice.
She is at the bottom of the ocean
or in a phone booth. She is
waving at someone as she speaks,
or she has never been so alone.
I’ve moved the dust
from one corner to another.
Water boils on the stove.
I will drop a bag
of vegetables in it soon
and slice cheese for a sandwich.
There are two cans of beer in the fridge.
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