"you fooled me,"
she says into the receiver,
lips slick with pink lipstick
by now, his name has begun to sound
like a dial tone, like a busy signal,
she doesn't remember what it was like
not to miss him, not to be waiting on him.
his voice is just the right amount
of apathetic, and her nervous heels
leave scuff marks on the kitchen floor.
"april fool's," he says.
the dial tone hurts her ears.