For a friend who cannot see

the warmth of your nasal tone
brings solace to my telephone

that black piece lies in the corner
by the mirror, all day; it worries
when its contour touches the dust
of the talcum powder

it mourns in silence when its mouth piece is vacant
it waits for your "hello"

it waits for you to stay and tell about your day
It waits for me to rhyme and
blurt words such as “clay” “way” “hay”

But
I refuse to speak.
I listen like a frozen lizard that catalyses the screams of my cousin
I listen like an audience of a radio show that wait endlessly for their RJ
to fill their empty lives
I listen like a viewer of a television show,
waiting to be stunned by the worry of the day
I listen to the “chik-chik” of my telephone

And I know i must place down the receiver now
So..till next time, “hello”