When a tweet, no longer comes from a bird.
A message, no longer written in words.
A picture, determines your current worth.
A swipe, is not for payments against earns.

Your world, no longer restricted to earth.
Your voice, can control your universe.
Games, without company, a box.
Books, used to be written, forgot.

Love was in letters, not characters.
Eyes looked straight, not down.
Communication, in touch were sound.
Reactions, were not button frowns.

Food shared, not delivered.
Noise surrounded, not muted.
Hands shaken, not email awaken.
The world was claimed, but not hidden.

An automated world,
not an automated me.

Pause,
Along the lines of,
Universal time.
Suppress the hands of the minute and hour
Entrap my thoughts in a cage
PAUSE
Make sure to double lock them
And throw them away.
Don't forget to burn the key,
I really need a second to breathe
PAUSE
Perhaps, *a couple seconds more
Understanding me, the forever misunderstood
Stamped on my forehead,
Engraved on my skin.
PAUSE
Can you read me now?
Now that I'm,
drowning in seconds,
engulfed in minutes,
gone for hours.
Yet, time never paused*....

She pinned me to the wall
Breath heavy, legs a p a r t
Like the most beautiful canvas
Begging for art.

Having these thoughts
Of why?
Why do I have to publicize myself as ****?
So a boy can sweep me off my feet?
So I can have thousands of followers,
Who tell me all the time I look beautiful
With all these
false lashes, fake weaves, cake on my face
Why is this beautiful to you?
And why am I shamed if I don't do it?
I'm sorry if I'm "old school",
But I'll happily prance around in your long t-shirts.
Make up free,
Wind kissing my scalp as my natural hair blows free,
Sun radiating off my skin,
Melanin issued by the Gods.
Thank the Gods I'm just me.
Carefree, eventually.
Until then I'm part one versus part two.

275

Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Why, God, would be content
With but a fraction of the Life—
Poured thee, without a stint—
The whole of me—forever—
What more the Woman can,
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last Delight I own!

It cannot be my Spirit—
For that was thine, before—
I ceded all of Dust I knew—
What Opulence the more
Had I—a freckled Maiden,
Whose farthest of Degree,
Was—that she might—
Some distant Heaven,
Dwell timidly, with thee!

Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot!
Strain till your last Surmise—
Drop, like a Tapestry, away,
Before the Fire’s Eyes—
Winnow her finest fondness—
But hallow just the snow
Intact, in Everlasting flake—
Oh, Caviler, for you!