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Poem

He was calling her who was calling him who had been 
thinking about her who had been thinking about him who 
wanted to maybe have dinner with her who had picked a 
cozy little restaurant to nonchalantly suggest to him who 
doubted he had a chance with her who couldn’t really 
imagine why she would interest him who had had to 
blowtorch his cold feet to call her who was battling 
hyperactive butterflies because she had never been the 
type to make the first move until she met him who hadn’t 
been able to focus on anything but her who had been having 
daydreams day and night about him who was already 
forgetting his well-rehearsed opening lines while calling her 
who was blushing a radioactive scarlet while calling him 
who was half-expecting a “Sorry? Who?” from her who was 
ready to bail at the first sign of disinterest from him who 
then heard the busy signal and figured some guy with a 
fast car must be wooing her who heard the busy signal and 
assumed some girl prettier than herself must be cooing at 
him who hung up the phone and decided to pick another 
time to call her who clicked off the phone with a sigh of relief 
and never got brave enough again to call him who by and by 
abandoned the idea of calling her.

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