I used to look up at telephone wires and think of all of the voices inside. Who’s hearing I love you for the first time, from mouth to ear—whispered. Who’s getting a job, who’s ordering pizza, who’s just listening to breath?
But I just now thought that it’s cellular now. We, at least, don’t even have a home phone—a land-line: physical wire-to-wire connections like cans and string. Our words aren’t contained—they just fly around above our heads