mythological booth

where the word spoken aloud takes you, hypertexts you. how a phone call flips the hood up, pulling the cloud down to separate us with sheets, every call comes with an invisible booth - we step into its confessional, as most calls are, and we are the actors who pretend so thoroughly on any improvised stage that they believe whatever isn't really there as a matter of convenience, or is it a deal made in the chapel we sought refuge in, silence for some, support for others, a station for the confidence men to fill up again, to verify ourselves by rethreading the story with our narrative masters, to travel through time, these are the powers unleashed with buttons, pressed to exit. a code that solves our identity, a spell to manage the merge, to delineate self from selves, to preserve the particle of our presence here, carved, cut, the weld broken, scraped like an outline chalked on the street. the instrument that saves us from being swirled, but fleeing the prisoners in your cell without really escaping the jail itself only strands you in the smallest self, the soul's cult and every phone call is a make believe island you are waving on, or is it the raft you bought to flee the island? the fence you wear that allows you to reach out from  whose gate is locked, depends on our suspension of disbelief, as if you were protected by your hand held company, as if you were safe with that thing in your ear, that plastic leach pressed against your cheek, feeding on psychic scraps, that wears you as walk, that sits you down and pulls you from you, as if you carried your own door, a portable emergency exit kept in pocket or purse, as if you didn't already carry your own door, or perhaps it's really a door for the doorless, a door for those who could never find the one inside because it was too dark in there and maybe they fell down the steps and got lost once and couldn't fumble their way back out and so now they carry a door they can always find, that leads out instead of in, as they are getting to know themselves out loud.