The Writers' Circle

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She thinks should I ring? 
Do I want to ring? 
What will it change? 
Will I live in hope? 
Will I live to regret? 

and still see thinks 

then in an impulse, she snatches the phone and attempts to dial
but the impulse retracted and she retreats, 
minds over heart, mind wins 
remorse, grief, closure 
but still a devil in her desire 

a need to reach and hope
an impulse, a snatch,  a dial,
a deep breath, a pause and click, it started to ring 

one, two, three, why doesn't he answer?
is he there, does he care?
four, five, six and finally a breath, 

a sign something to hold onto 
but too late, nerves give way and click

He is gone. 

What do I want?
What's best for the kids?
What makes me happy?
Where is all this going?
Who knows?
Who cares?    
This is me, this is my life

Passion stirs
desire returns 
nothing ventured
the dial turns 

we have all been foolish
in private, in public 
but none of that matters
desire drives us

i want this
i want happiness
for gods sake answer the phone

and then a breath

"Hello... Hello...Who is this?"

"It is me, remember?  
Too long ago to remember me really 
My looks, my clothes my hair 
Are you still there?"

"Yes. but I still remember you"
I know all and nothing about you 
Are you still the same? 
Have you changed? 
What do you do?
What do you dream? 

I think I know, but would love you to tell me."