You call me from saturns rings
and the service is awful
i dont think Verizon covers the galaxy.
I call you from the red of mars
the universe twirling out under me
my fingers slip through constellations
i can barely see your blues in the black.
We cut in and out, static between
distant channels maybe if i hold this
clotheshanger higher your voice will
cut through- strong and clear.
write calligraphy in the darkness
from the light of stars, spilling our promises
between moons, reception stretching
from the towers on our hearts.
