It is when I am lonely that I show my face in hopes you will click it twice and reveal a heart. Even though that heart hasn't pumped a drop of blood, I will run my eyes through a filter and hope that you like it.
It is when I am disconnected that I share the art I have found, a reblog of a print of the original. Who made it? Who knows? Did you see that I was looking at art?
It's when you aren't around that I let words fly in hopes they warm you. What is it that you do when I miss you?
I took a photo. It wasn't for me, it was for you, but your name is still not beneath it.
If I slept until I saw you again there would only be static, so I daydream in digital. I construct a self you'll want to kiss on the mouth.
I read poems so I can tell you about them later.