but i don’t want anybody but you.
i don’t want anyone else.

and in this moment i realize
that’s exactly what i want—
what i’m yearning for—
summed up in two sentences by ernest hemingway.

and i know that pending call between us
might become a silent dare,
like the last time i tried circling back
to someone who couldn’t decide on me.
while i hoped beneath white sheets, tired,
his choices became clear through my tears.

i yearn for more.

and so the telephone rings—
rring—rring—
silently.