RRRRing!?

There exists, I am now convinced,
a baffling mystery-presence that,
or who, aspires to my confidence;
at the very least perhaps a distant
acquaintanceship, some type of
relationship unknown to me,
just as this phantom presence is
puzzling to me.  Yet that ghostly
presence manifests existence in
an attention-compelling display of
presence, interrupting throughout
the day my thoughts and actions,
calling me to respond, and when I
do, overcome with bashfulness, a
sudden onslaught of delicacy,
becomes mute, failing any rejoinder.
Unless my telephone is itself the
source unaided by outside influence,
beckoning me in the only language
in which it is familiarly comfortable?