The Post Poem by Winston T. Gylles

The post mentioned her telepathic link being offline
Yet I received the call quite clearly.
She seemed unaware of having established a connection
Or did she feign?

Her breathing pattern suggested smoking
Then began a shuffling, a displacement of objects
Muttering
Moving she hummed and suddenly sang soprano
Loudly bemoaning a broken heart

Whose?

Searching with an inward gaze
Cast through a gritty pane - 'Sightless in Gaza'
She's singin' da blues, Emo-blues.

So then Ah! she exclaims and the line
Goes dead

I can only surmise she found a more reliable form of communication
Though evidently not with me

Whose heart is broken, I wonder?
Certainly not hers!
And mine's been stopped for so long
I'd forgot I had one.