Which was why you couldn't get through, asrana.
I really...I really have nothing to say except
Gift-wrapped in kindness and comfort,
You made a present to yourself last night;
Unwrap me at your leisure,
Tear the pretty paper off and slit the coloured string.
Everything inside is yours;
Wrought for you, the reason for my being is in your hands.
I ask little;
The chance to see your eyes once in a while,
To watch your smile
Break like a sudden deep cut to my heart,
The chance to stroke your cheek or touch your hand,
To listen to you talk - perhaps to reach
The bruises that go deeper than your skin.
You made a present to yourself last night -
Unpacked, with assembly instructions in both our languages,
I will sit on a shelf until you feel you can use me,
Or until you give up and give me away.