I Would

If you were to call
my name from here,
and I was standing
in England, I would
hear it.

If you were to kiss
your pillow, while imagining
it was me, I would feel
the ghost of your lips
on mine.

If you were to squeeze
the corner of my desk,
and that desk was, in your mind,
my hand, I might perceive
that as well.

If you were to tell me
you loved me, I would call
you a liar.