Picture Perfect

In the realm where no eyes meet, our gazes converged through screens,

Struggling to decipher meaning from pixels of text,

The air failed to carry whispers of my intent,

Baring teeth as a mere spectacle,

Tracing paths in hopes of unearthing truth.

As I scrutinize your words, my mind painfully contorts,

Confined to the remnants of familiar sights and memories,

Reflecting endlessly upon the fleeting firefly,

The tired stylus etched into the vinyl record’s dust-filled grooves.

So let me lose my train of thought,

The noise is so repetitive and discordant.

Waiting for the sun to rise, surrendering myself in any way possible,

Am I only capable of reaction for expression?

Can I only listen to your voice,

Seeking warmth within our dimly lit veil,

And still find truthful contentment?

Caught between existence and absence,

Oscillating between affirmation and negation,

Navigating between closed and open windows,

Cloaking your body in veils that compose,

Lowering my gaze to shadows cast by dancing curtains,

Where mere wisps of smoke naively imply existence.

Too rooted to pull the trigger,

Yet perpetually drawn to its gentle tug,

Red, white, yellow, green,

Seasons bleed into my perception,

Yet bleed only through the frames of my window.

Can you see this?

How I wish I could share it,

How I wish I could share it with myself.