Judith Pordon - On The Line


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ON THE LINE

In a long thin arc of loneliness
where nothing collides, I wait.

Face flushed, intestines pounding,
minutes and hours drag by.

Alarm cuts the steep silence.
Vertigo bells resound.

Handle to mouth,
this cradle rocks me.

I reach to speak through a thread,
grip your voice with mental muscles.

Flowers burst in my heart.
A laugh of two becomes one.

Not enough time.
Don't hang up.

- Judith Pordon

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