Kate Emily Harris
International Call
I just called to see if you’d sound far away
across an ocean of static,
but you didn’t,
no farther than last summer.
Across the ocean of static
your voice sailed
no farther than last summer,
no closer to my heart.
Your voice had sailed
when you told me of the alley,
no closer to my heart,
where you had a prostitute.
When you told me of the alley—
her back pressed to brick—
where you had the prostitute,
all warm thighs and twining tongues,
her back pressed to brick,
sobbing, love me, love me,
warm thighs and twining tongues,
my face was forgotten.
Sobbing, love me, love me,
(but you didn’t),
my face was forgotten.
I just called to see how far away you’d sound.
