You Awakened the Phone from Its Heavy, Dark Sleep
You awakened the phone from its heavy, dark sleep
With your beloved voice, trembling warmly.
It was winter.
I was sunken
In the unmoving armchair beside loneliness.
I approached the windows;
Outside, the rain was falling.
I gazed with gratitude at the long telephone wires —
They came from far away, without stopping, straight from you,
From the scent of your hair, from the faithful line of your lips,
Without pausing, without entangling with the tempting rainbows along the way.
Were you crying?
No. Warm raindrops were falling from the wires.
