I think "she is a stranger". I hope it is "she".
Strangers we are, but strangers are we?

We both long for our touch to feel some one else's
And our moans to drool out of another pair of lips
We long to give what we crave for our senses
Two wet minds lost in the hips

Two lonely bodies and oceans between
We feel each other untouched unseen
Two waves of the same sea crashing on shores afar
Two lonely souls joined by the stars

She was a stranger. I hope it was "she".
Strangers we were, but strangers were we?

whenever you feel
inconsequentially small
remember one thing:
the period.

a dark pixel
a tiny nuanced dot
that manages to
transform everything.

"I'm fine"
becomes "I'm fine."
"Okay"
becomes "Okay."

but perhaps the most painful
of all is to see
"goodbye"
change into "goodbye."

Late night conversations about sweet nothings,
I feel as though he is just -something,
Something so goofy and unique,
I smile from ear to ear as he speaks,
I stay up almost the entire night and day,
It would be easier if he were to be next to me and stay,
He says we practically read each others' minds -telepathy,
I can go on and on about his sympathy,
We make funny faces all the time,
He is what I call  -a dime,
Not a dime's worth nor it's size,
It's quirkiness and shine,
And to end this poem is hard - just in a few lines,
His eyes and smile fill the room with light,
There is not one thing I regret from these,
*-These sleepless nights.

avatar, avatar
wispy locks of flaxen pixels
   tender doe eyes, fragmented
     gentle curves and
                                     GLITCH: 1.v -  acne
                                    >solve>run - apply.coverup.resolve
                                                ...pending