I used to lie on the floor for hours after
school with the phone cradled between
my shoulder and my ear, a plate of cold
rice to my left, my school books to my right.
Twirling the cord between my fingers
I spoke to friends who recognized the
language of our realm. Throats and lungs
swollen, we talked into the heart of the night,
toying with the idea of hair dye and suicide,
about the boys who didn’t love us, 
who we loved too much, the pang
of the nights. Each sentence was
new territory, like a door someone was
rushing into, the glass shattering
with delirium, with knowledge and fear.
My Mother never complained about the phone bill,
what it cost for her daughter to disappear
behind a door, watching the cord
stretching its muscle away from her.
Perhaps she thought it was the only way
she could reach me, sending me away
to speak in the underworld.
As long as I was speaking
she could put my ear to the tenuous earth
and allow me to listen, to decipher.
And these were the elements of my Mother,
the earthed wire, the burning cable,
as if she flowed into the room with
me to somehow say, Stay where I can reach you,
the dim room, the dark earth. Speak of this
and when you feel removed from it
I will pull the cord and take you
back towards me.

COLD rice = neglected/food unimportant?

TWIRLING cord between fingers = nervous?

SWOLLEN throats and lungs = lots to say

new territory like a SHATTERING GLASS door = new experiences

watching the [phone] CORD STRETCHING its muscle away from her = Mother feels the pull of the daughter's independent life

phone is CRADLED = safe'

shattering glass = change (violence?)

cord stretching its muscle away...cord = umbilical cord?

girl w/ her ear against the earth, DECIPHERING = cracking the code (of young adulthood/boys?)

hair dye & suicide = they talk about everything (from the meaningFUL to the meaningLESS)

"Perhaps she thought...the only way to REACH me, sending me AWAY." = push away to connect

The speaker retells her experience as a school-aged girl who would come home and talk on the phone late into the night.

She talks about how those conversations helped her grow up, and what she talked about and how it was thrilling and a little scary.

Then she reflects on how her mother must have felt about it, and imagines that her mother's approach was to allow her daughter to leave the world of their home to be wrapped up in the world of her peers, but knew that she would be there to tug her back in when she needed it.