It's been even longer since I've expected one from you.
My insides are turning; I'd eat to pass the time but it wouldn't stay.
I shake.
I wait
to tell you how,
even now,
with this truce in place,
my fingers fight-
first spelling out your number like it were their own name,
then knee-jerk refusing to dial.
And somehow you are here,
in my city, just as I've cracked-
but why would this surprise me?
