shy, quiet voice. the girl says: hello?

i say: yes? hello.

she says: oh, hi. umm. i think i have the wrong number.

i say: um. who is this?

she says: you don't know me.

i say: do you know me?

she says: secrets. i don't know. maybe you do know me.

i say: are you the girl with the pink satin slip who was showing me the thigh at the bar last night?

and i hear a rumbling sound and she seems uncomfortable: no. i do not go to bars.

i say: oh. well. hmm. have i kissed your lips and broken the seal and tossed all that is fragile out of the way while smelling your vibrant neck and cheeks? have i tasted your tongue at a party in the darkest of darks?

there is a tear that falls on the phone mouthpiece, and i am confused for a bit why i know that sound.

she is more tense: NO.

i say: well then, how about are you the girl that i follow in the afternoons? the girl that walks always down to the ice cream parlor and ties her pup to the chair? the girl who once dropped that letter from her brother on the sidewalk outside of the boutique, and decided to leave it there for some stranger to find? are you the girl that bumped into me at the show last month and then knocked on the bathroom door while i was peeing? the girl who danced on the floor while i played a keyboard and yelled at the boys to stop making us pregnant? are you the ----

"CLICK".