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Elizabeth Weaver

Two Delicious, with Prawn Sauce

Rapunzel had wher hair. All she had
was a phone she couldn't dial out on
and a second set of sheets--twin-sized
(too short to reach the ground)
and they were in the wash.

And the phonecalls: wrong numbers, hang-ups, let-downs
If the words were foreign, she'd go by the tone;
If it sounded of insult, she all but broke
the phone with a slam. The answer to a question ,
as a rule, was yes. She was in love

with the quiet one who spoke Cantonese
inside the seductive static. Every night, a gingery
gift left outside the door, wrapped in foil
Every note, a single lucky sentence.