Silences. Isnt it in these moments of silences interspersed between broken words, that we actually talk?  Where my tongue runs out of words to tell you what it feels like,  my silence steps in.  Perhaps we should have our own language. Our language of  silences and hummings,  with words acting just as pauses in between. And when that silence steps in,  I listen to the cars that pass by in your city, the rattle of the plates in your kitchen and all of those small sounds around you,  and feel like I'm living it myself. I could keep doing that for hours. Listen to your life without the unnecessary interruption of our voices, and feel like I am in it,  here at the other end of the line. I smile, ecstatically.  Maybe you can see it. I dont know. 

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