intentions

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perfect silence

 

all those smoldering

eyes

all that sweet

understanding 

all that

mascara

all those 

earrings

 

all those warm 

bodies

 

will now go 

elsewhere.

 

i realize

that 

i might be

missing

my

final 

chance

 

by leaving 

the phone

off the 

hook.

 

now

i only

phone out

for an

ambulance,

fimerman or

the police.

 

i'm back to 

where i was

years ago:

i don't want to 

hear the good news

of the human 

voice.

 

i keep it 

off the

hook.

 

i am now

not 

for whom the 

bell 

tolls

 

let it toll

for 

you. 

 

      -Charles Bukowski