I Find Myself Dialling Your Number For The First Time…

Illustration by Jayda Korn

I find myself dialling your number for the first time,

A line we’ve never crossed before,

But I’m having a bad day, and your name keeps ringing in my ears.

Oh! Is the universe pulling me toward you?

Even with an ocean between us,

Will you pick up,

Pick me up?

I find myself staring at those red letters: 

“The workers have nothing to lose but their chains.” 

You love your ideologies and revolutionaries,

And I love debating them with you –

“That’s fair,” we’ll conclude.

All so we can talk a little longer,

Read me the lines you underlined at sixteen,

The ones you wrote down at twenty,

Tell me how they gave you hope,

When the world felt hopeless.

I find myself squealing on the phone –

Like I used to on Christmas mornings before the universe took it all away. 

You’ve read one of those books I mentioned.

My voice hits that high octave and you chuckle,

Yes, you’re a wonder too…

I find myself missing your soft accent, lazily stretching your vowels,

Patience in your voice when I don’t know a philosopher or two –

I still marvel at your mind

As I remember you nervously stealing glances at me –

How I miss those nights sometimes.

No, I won’t see your face for months,

But after the call drops, my brain whirls for hours,

Just your mind,

Accidentally charming mine.

I find myself lying in a new bed,

A new body warming my toes,

My shoulders loose, fooling around like teenagers again.

And when I leave his house in the middle of the night,

The wind stinging my sore thighs,

I smile, thinking how you would’ve walked with me –

One more minute,

One more sentence,

Let’s travel the world on the way home,

Just one more idea.

Let me tell you all about it –

You’re the first number I’ll dial,

The one I’ll call to warm my mind.

Oh, I find myself wishing the universe would promise to keep you in my life.

All I ask is for your number when you’re down under,

I’ll keep a list of everything I need to tell you.

You’ll say you hate them all, and then let me change your mind,

Just call and say,

“I’ll be there in a few months – maybe we can catch up?”

I find myself wondering

Who am I to you?

How you fit into my life,

And no word ever fits.