Thursday, April 29, 2010

NaPoWriMo, Day Thirty, Poem Twenty Five

Phone Poem 13

When we come up
with the same idea,
which is more often
then you'd think,
we synchronize
with voices like
morning birds in nest.
It's been told that,
like multiple chirps,
you can't tell how
the conversation
ends or begins
in its pleasant sounds.
And yet I still feel
if I didn't give her
a .5 second head start
in a mutual revelation,
she would still find a way
to disagree.

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