I have loved you in pixels,
In the cathedral glow of screens,
Where devotion refreshes every second
And longing buffers endlessly.
Your face arrives compressed,
Your voice a small miracle of code.
Even desire must pass through servers
And be approved.
We leave our hearts on read.
We archive tenderness.
We type what we cannot say
And delete it
All too easily.
O modern love –
So public, so lonely –
We touch the world constantly
And rarely feel it touch back.
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