Voice Mail

I saved a voice message from you

I replay it, afraid to forget our history

and so I can hear you say you love me

when I forget to love myself

the recording is accurate, nearly

exhaustion through cracked syllables

and the thin hopeless whine

spins like a record, quietly

I used to pretend that tomorrow you would call

as your words each time tell me

but the string of those tomorrows hangs

in the back of my memory

and memories can’t make phone calls

no matter how much they miss you