unfolded

Remember when we were younger, and
we used to think our teachers lived
at school? I always pictured oversized
desks where they could fold themselves
up at night, packed nicely in among
their books and pens and apples. This
is how I envision you - folded up inside
my cell phone, your voice coming from
somewhere among the buttons and wires.
Occasionally I'll open up the
back and peer in, wondering it you're
really there - longing for the day
when you unfold yourself from within
and come to me. You will unfold to me,
only to be folded again into my arms,
and I'll no longer have
only your words to keep me warm
on days that I am feeling lonely.