Now there were two of them
Separated between thousands
of read texts and timely
chats touched by sound
but not skin  
Awake in the others sleeping
Sleeping in the others awake  
Restless as they wait
Restless as they wait

Said Bob Dylan.

My poems are like flowers.

They look amazing soon after

plucking from my mind,

but begin to wither

away within minutes after posting on

website!