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.

  Jeffrey McDaniel, “The Quiet World”