Through the fuzzy threads
of cyber space.
I reach out, but my fingertips
graze
only plastic, and
liquid crystal, which could be
diamonds
but I'd still be
reaching out through cyber
space.
Night bleeds into day
and day swells to night,
they get screwed over by time,
waiting by the moonlight, connected by
ticking clocks and
beating hearts—
Hearts—
too many sent through
space,
lost in the threads.
They will never amount to
your touch.
Tonight, as always
I sleep with fuzzy images of you in my
head, of you
beside me.