This is Where

You phone from another country,
I can’t remember where or why
you’re calling. I can’t hear
what you’re saying
until I soon realise
you’re explaining yourself or more
specifically your absence.
Then my room becomes another,
familiar yet far
from where I should be.
A noise keeps coming,
a noise that makes me tense
my shoulders as if something
is about to fall
on either one of us. You crackle
on the other end of the line,
your voice changing into one
that isn’t yours.
And then your body goes too,
from right before me, subdued
by the din that is all of a sudden
everywhere. What city are you in,
I hear myself saying.
I almost know, I almost feel
the answer rise to my lips,
the word that will fix
what is broken here.
I can’t make my mind
reach it. I say your name instead
and suddenly you’re gone,
quick as a guillotine
the line goes dead,
and the silence rings in my ear
like a punishment.

Leeanne Quinn is originally from Drogheda and lives in Dublin. Her first collection of poetry, Before You, will be published by Dedalus Press in September 2011.