the cold water

dripping

from the bath

i make my way to the ringing

phone.

it's someone

i don't want to talk to.

but i do.

too tired

to speak, or say otherwise

i sit

with a towel

in the big chair

by the window.

she's crying again.

i listen.

my feet wet on the floor.

my bones

still warm.

i let her say what she has

to say.

i let her go on

until there is no more.

we hang

up.

i go back to the tub,

touching the water

with my hand.

it's cold.