Life On The Screen

Our existence is wrapped up in busy fingertips

attracted to the alluring samples of scintillating screens

their constant updates filling our rapidly shrinking heads

But this touch has such little intimacy within its cerebral connection

where eyes no longer meet eyes; not light-filled nor even soul-piercing

soft, warm flesh not felt, and beating hearts not known

There is metal in our mouths now, that will stick in our throats

while impenetrable walls grow thicker to keep us apart

Until, out of reach, and each of us, alone

we will no longer remember how to breathe

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Unlikely Hostages

Love caught my eyes and held them

so I had to look carefully at love

but noticed a greasy film spattered over it

I tried to scrub off the thick smudges

that tainted its clear sweetness

though nothing seemed to cut through

I felt love again and again

still, the stickiness repelled my touch

Not long ago, love had been unmuddied

by the never-to-be-prepared-for unthinkables

I thought it would always be shiny, glistening

like a just-cleaned window you could see straight through

Now, I just want love to let go of my eyes

until I can see more clearly

Handless Heart

No hands doth a heart have

How then can it hold love

 carry burdens heavy

or touch another’s

This vessel which feels

 passion, pain, love

 without end of depth

hath no need of these

nor limbs of any sort

for it holds, carries,

touches, feels in ways

hands could never

unless they turn to ash

 Damaged or broken

 still it beats on

physically whole

the shattering silent

to ears and eyes

while longing

for hands

to hold it