A cellphone is ringing.
Buzzing on the table, against the table, and screaming stereophonic.

Shall I pick up ? she asks, simply,
It is the only one, and perhaps will be for a long, long time,
Perhaps forever.
Though it hurts, I know it hurts.
I am alone, not lonely but I might be.
And not a message. This call or nothing.

The phone plays on her nerve, trouncing nasally on a note,
Sounding in her brain-
She thinks of cold nights and the fear of herself.
Of pitiful anger, aimed at nothing.

She steels herself and picks up.