Origami

You are crying on the other end,

a jagged sound I cannot mend.

I listen to the intake of your breath

and fold a bird to hold my own.

The receipt is thermal, in the gloom.

The thumbnail makes the corner click.

The paper is a little thick,

a white scrap in a quiet room.

A sharp, precise and clinical crease

where the grocery logo finds its peace.

A paper crane with a printed wing,

a small and very useless thing.