And every second, I count;
Till that little screen lights up,
And chimes just the right amount.
Leaving everything aside,
I jump towards my telephone;
And dial the rythemic number,
Praying that no one's at home.
We talk for hours, and,
Hours at end;
Dreams engulf me,
Without sleep or end.
When finally the sun rises,
And yawns space each line we say;
She bids me farewell with such affection,
Each syllable makes me sway.
As soon as the cradle is back in it's home,
I long for just a moment more;
A minute? An hour?
Maybe two, maybe four.
For however long we talk,
There is a fact, which holds true;
Whenever I do not hear your voice,
I swear, every inch of me misses you.