(1)
There always seems
to be such a short, mundane story
that accompanies every text
All you have to do
is sit around idly, press a few keys, click ‘send’
and off goes your little message
flying half-way across the world, even
In the blink of an eye
(2)
But each story always has a prologue, does it not?
The chapters of longing, despair and heart break
with the hair line cracks too small for you to see
and the whispers loud, but which your screen won’t catch

And always before clicking send, there is this pause
for a moment
and a
space in time
where all there is is that little button
and the quick jumping of your heart because
that’s it.
You click it, and the message is sent, on its instantaneous voyage
away from your finger tips into my eyes
(3)
Then, the wait.
There might be celebration, there might be a wake
who knows? The message is sent and we are engaged
to whatever aftermath should follow
-if, of course, there is any at all
Here it is, though, laugh as you click ‘open’ -

we’re done.