SHE TALKS A MILE A MINUTE

She talks a mile a minute
And she’s 170 miles away

We exchange hellos quickly in-between spurts of laughter
She says it’s been too long since we talked
I make a joke
She’s 160 miles away

She asks me about that thing I wanted to tell her
There are a lot of things I wanted to tell her
I color in the pages of my past with caricatures
And we laugh together at my idiocies
She’s 140 miles away

I ask her about her life, what’s new, what’s not new, I don’t really care what she talks about
I just want her to talk
She’s never been good at telling stories, but I can tell she’s gotten better
Probably from practice
I feel nostalgic for the times I heard the rough draft of her tales
She’s 120 miles away

She has to go
But goodbyes are just hyper retellings of whatever last minute thoughts we possess
Matching tattoos
Birthday wishes
Mixed drinks
Muffled laughter
She’s 115 miles away

She talks a mile a minute
But she’s still 110 miles away

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