Uncorrected Proofs

The mirrors and the unacknowledged nods

Dial tones and license plates

The words you didn't choose

Everything the day's too small to hold

Spills on to the dusk

And shorts the evening's fuse

So you fumble for a voice

And sing happy birthday

Read it to yourself again

The stories always end the same

He can't stay and she won't run

And fear is where they're calling from

Staunch the blood from countless tiny cuts

We're all out of bandages

The heaters' rattle, taunt

Sifting through translucent shards of glass

Looking for a filament

That lit the life you want

So you stumble for the phone

Grasp the cord and pull

Will your readership complain the stories always end the same?

She can't stay and he won't run, and fear is where they're calling from

Afraid is where where they're calling from

Afraid is where we live for far too long (Afraid is where we live for far too long)