Mess age

Things used to be very simple, things used to be very clear.

You write on a piece of paper, it’s taken to places far and near.

A kiss of your excitative smell a cute touch on a secret love letter.

A heavy black seal with a crown for a way less interesting matter.

 

All that has changed, it’s been twisted. Your fingers tap on a screen.

How many zeroes make a one? One of a binary kin?

Ones and zeroes, zeroes and ones. As light, in sea and space, no less.

That’s how we send a message. A message in this age of mess.