When I am alone for many years
the voice of people whisked away
the epistrophe of their entreaties
do not escape me

the planets by radial circuitry
hum and integrate the calls
to return by broadcasts
heard solely by

not my ear but the
porous waves
interrupting my thoughts
as rude music
that makes me smile knowingly

"Ah, they miss me"  I think
When I am alone I miss them
with pointed fury

the heart is a silent radio
we don't perceive
yet in some strata
message beam
unbroken cast
when I see old friends.

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