A Phone Call

A stranger on the other end 
of the radio waved cell phone signals,
and she laughed at the things I said, 
I mean everything I said,
all my failed attempts at being serious and funny.
I was so flattered that
I made more attempts.
Isn't it strange that I can't entertain anybody I know, 
but I can entertain a stranger?
Is it because I am eloquent and charming?
Is it because there's some inexplicable 
connection between us?
Is it because she's a better flatterer than my friends?
I really wish it's the first reason;
well, I'm happy to settle for the second;
but I'm old enough to know it's most likely the third. 
I think about you again, my ghost of love and pain, 
that will never go away.
I wish you had flattered me out of my doubts;
I wish we enjoyed the imperfect reality 
and got over it soon afterwards;
I wish I stop thinking what might have been.
I wish I stop to wish
if it is possible. 

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