A small moment of phone-call awkwardness turns into something tender here. The speaker is on a call with someone far away when another call comes in. On the other person's screen appears the phrase "Held remotely," while the speaker sees the word "Resume." The speaker notes that you can't talk and hold at once, and the line about a world whose "far reaches / no longer exceed our grasp" hints at how technology has shrunk distance.
The tone is light and affectionate. The other person laughs and says they almost miss being held, which seems to play on the double meaning of the word: held on a phone line, but also held in an embrace. The final stanza shifts from the gadget talk to something more feeling-centered. Though they are five hours apart, the two share "a single present," moment by moment. The closing "we hold" suggests both waiting and holding on to each other. The mood is quietly warm, even hopeful, about closeness across an ocean.