You and I only exist now.  Though that’s a squishy statement since I am writing this in my now and you are reading it in yours.  

What is the temporal connection between our nows.  The fierceness of now is not overcome by our distance.  Or our different calendars.  Is now held here in this almost physicality of looks-like-print?

Isn’t this is-now-between-us not the same somehow as where your hand rests as you read what my hands type is now? I’m still trying to ask that question. Abbreviations.

What wants to be felt that is lost in this small wire?

My skin would brush against yours.