The first one starts with traffic noise
A car door closing somewhere
You say you'll be ten minutes late
Then laugh at your own excuse
The timestamp reads September
The screen glows in my hand

Three small recordings
On an old phone I almost replaced
Some things stay longer
Than they were meant to

The voice is gone from the room
But not from the air
Some words stop arriving
And still remain there
Memory needs so little
To keep a light on

The second one is shorter
You ask if I got home alright
A train passes behind your voice
Someone calls your name
The message ends too early
Like a door left half open

The third one says nothing important
Just weather
Just dinner plans
Just an ordinary Tuesday
The kind that quietly becomes a year

The voice is gone from the room
But not from the air
Some words stop arriving
And still remain there
Memory needs so little
To keep a light on

I delete all three messages
The screen goes dark
And every word stays exactly where it was