Atlantic ¦ {Poetry}

All i want to do is talk to you too

Voices carried on waves across the Atlantic

Who knew that distance becomes semantic

when laughter crosses an ocean

without drowning in the dark.

She's in his future

He exists in her past,

pulling tight, pulling closer

making every moment last

His voice arrives like salt-sweet wind,

turning the heavy air to something light,

She welcomes without question

His beautiful face day or night

They build constellations in the static,

(will he catch her if she falls?)

If only for the span of their calls

trace shapes between words on the phone

hold time like a fragile thing

and make it their own.

There is no weight in this;

only warmth,

only curiosity,

only the promise

of another night,

another story,

another thread unspooling

across the water.