the last time we spoke

the last time we spoke

Whispered goodbyes flood the night,
unwanted words that wax with the
moon’s approach. A final sigh rings

through the telephone line; I hold
my breath, wait for you to say those
stupid three words first. But you don’t.

 

Copyright © 2010 by Christopher Chaffin – All rights reserved

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About cjchaffin

Wordsmithing is my passion. I eat, sleep, and breathe words and phrases, only to regurgitate them and pray that they are better off than when I first ingested them.
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