The Breather

Painting by Russouli


The Breather


Just as in the horror movies
when someone discovers
that the phone calls
are coming from inside the house


so too, I realized
that our tender overlapping
has been taking place only inside me.


All that sweetness,
the love and desire—
it’s just been me dialing myself
then following the ringing
to another room


to find no one on the line,
well, sometimes a little breathing
but more often than not, nothing.


To think that all this time—
which would include the boat rides,
the airport embraces,
and all the drinks—


it’s been only me
and the two telephones,
the one on the wall in the kitchen
and the extension
in the darkened guest room upstairs.


Billy Collins

Posted over on Poetry Foundation