I will myself alive through these network pages
and even as the sun rises above, I never see it.
I am instead illuminated from the light
of this mirror glass screen
Where pictures form into pixelated sentences
And words are a slanted language, creating different meanings
In this place: population 7 billion
though I never see their faces
Instead shrouded behind the mystery
of strange, colloquial phrases.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
I will myself alive through these network pages
and even as the sun rises above, I never see it.
I am instead illuminated from the light
of this mirror glass screen
Where pictures form into pixelated sentences
And words are a slanted language, creating different meanings
In this place: population 7 billion
though I never see their faces
Instead shrouded behind the mystery
of strange, colloquial phrases.
