we lack the connection, wireless, at least
while you are in the sky, I'll be sighing
at home, glancing at the chocolates you
gave me that I keep beneath the bed
unopened, contraband- the only heart
I won't touch

you'll see the cathedrals, and winding
roads, and you'll think about me
how I cry without warning and wait
every morning for you
through the databases, at the least the least
primitive, may be unresponsive-
our mouths will move but no sound
will come out

we have our ways, we will find them
and reside in separate nations with
our eyes and minds full of each other

-c.j.