Anthony Cruz - Mamma Blessing

The phone is no longer a key, but a lock. A vast barn phone that cannot break. It will not succumb. Hefty, old, plastic, red phone. It does not call. It is not calling me. You are not calling. And outside the window again, rain. You can go crazy! How have you gone mad all these years? How many times I looked at my veins, studying them with surgical interest. How many times did a handful of tranquilizers pour out into the palm of your hand, which can give not only a healthy sleep without dreams but also darkness without rain? I called you myself.