I'll stop collecting things and call you on the phone instead-
tell you how I read your life story in the paper before it happened
how the words on the page are louder than you and I can't hear the phone ring when you call.
I envied the neatness of your life and the periods, sometimes before the end but always before the beginnings.
I couldn't help but cut you out
throw you on top of clippings of clippings
of lives I've collected throughout the years.
I will never miss you now, I promise.
I promise to promise to never swear until I swear to do something some day
like change periods to commas and never forget to use the dash.
I'll pick up the phone and call you some day
arrange numbers into dial tones that sound like words
and I wouldn't even have to speak-