Missed Call

Dawn McSweeney


I believe it was you,



who called just now,
rang and rang my phone
but hung up on its answering machine
as I ran through the hall



naked,
my hair soaked, raining down,
my skin exploding in goosebumps;



ran to get to your voice
but, standing bare and alone,
all I got was a click of goodbye,



so I ask that the next time—



the next time I'm running through the hall



naked



soaked



exploding—



to get to some of your beautiful words,
please
do leave a message.

© Anderbo Journal