In an effort to get people to look 
  into each other’s eyes more, 
  and also to appease the mutes, 
  the government has decided 
  to allot each person exactly one hundred   
  and sixty-seven words, per day. 
  
  When the phone rings, I put it to my ear   
  without saying hello. In the restaurant   
  I point at chicken noodle soup. 
  I am adjusting well to the new way. 

  Late at night, I call my long distance lover,   
  proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.   
  I saved the rest for you. 

  When she doesn’t respond, 
  I know she’s used up all her words,   
  so I slowly whisper I love you 
  thirty-two and a third times. 
  After that, we just sit on the line   
  and listen to each other breathe.
  
  The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel