The Quiet World

In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

losing my voice has made life pretty quiet - literally. i've probably said less than a hundred words today.. Van says it's good because then i'll only say the important things. on the other hand, i think there are alot of things i want to say.. but can't. which makes saying anything else less worthwhile.. does that make sense?
i also realised it's hard to sustain a conversation when i can't reply much. i like this poem.