What can I do about the fact that you’ve left?
Tears? Beat the ground till it’s deeply cleft
And opens to let you out?
From heaven, can you hear me shout?
Why does such a natural process feel like theft?
They say there’s such a time as fit for farewell.
Well, I’ve learnt you can’t believe all you hear tell,
For I still know your number
My thumbs vividly remember,
How they dialed your sweet voice to make me feel well.