On Hold

Held remotely says the message on your screen when I interrupt our call to take another.

Talking or holding: you can’t do both, even in a world whose far reaches no longer exceed our grasp.

On the other side of the ocean, I read Resume. When we do, you tell me laughing you almost miss being held.

Five hours apart, yet we share a single present, speaking, listening, from one infinitesimal moment to the next: we hold.