No Longer a Home Phone

No Longer a Home Phone

A Poem by Olivia R.H.

She does not take it everywhere
as the saying goes
she is
she is the wet and bright ding in her purse, pulling her head as we stand at the island,
even when her chin jerks uncertainly, her own countermovement, telling me a part of her still wants to stay
she is the need to text back, the scrunched eyebrows
as if they were blinds closing in a café
she is the slouched shoulders and propped arms
as she scrolls, scrolls, scrolls
through posts as eye-catching as age-old Papyrus
and in the end
she is the disappearance, the disappearance
as if it weren't an 8.6-mm-thick solid block but an
information sinkhole a
gaping mouth
of air
A child it's like, to her
which would
give me

© 2021 Olivia R.H.

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Added on July 20, 2021
Last Updated on July 20, 2021


Olivia R.H.
Olivia R.H.

Madison, WI

I'm a young writer who loves coffee, reading, writing, hiking, running, dancing, trying different cuisines, eating almost anything that's chocolate, and playing the piano! I also love Spanish and cann.. more..