there is goes again.
the loathed and desired text message beep
with all its nefariously social implications.
i clamber over to the glow of the newly-lit screen:
on my hands and knees, like an infant,
energy-drained from reading online for hours
and hours
and hours.
my eyes are gummed together with techno-talk.
“hi”. the screen beams up at me.
i crawl back into hibernation.
YOU ARE READING
Afflatus
PoetryYou are my divine poetic inspiration. To breathe, to blow air through my lips. flāre afflāre afflātus. You are my divine afflatus. *- This is my third collection of poetry. The other two are Parts of Me and Butterfly Ripples. Please be kind enough n...
