I Recall the Telephone Booth

you left on a train
on the morning of october
"won't you button up your coat?" I said "it's cold out here"
who was I to think
there could ever be a future
you assured me once
it was all I could bear,
as I waited on the corner
the telephone booth,
I recall

you wrote of tragedies
on a letter stained with your tears
"I will never be the same"
I said "to me, you will"
in the evening I remained
still unsettled on the corner
would your voice return to me
at the end of this wire?
or will we always be
this lonely?