Instead of looking into me,
like you always do,
you look into a frozen image of me.
A freezing in a moment in time.
Instead of high-fiving or laughing
together, we laugh
silver, light blue beaming from us
onto us.
This is what we all became
a generation of embracing blueness alone
to shied from
a gradation of white, a gradation of lonely we
are all too uneasy to face.
And so we become machined words
in my quest for you, I like others work on words
I text
text
text
text
text
text
more
text
text
text
text
and wait
Instead of a warm embrace
I
get a vague tick,a broken smile. You
are not behind the screen this hour.
Banksy's Modern Love. (and so are all modern relationships, including family and friendships)
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