She doesn’t know my hair is thinning
or see the wrinkles around my eyes
or that my beard needs trimming,
and I wonder does she realize
while we sit here in our rooms and chat,
our fingers clicking on the keys
forming words, expressing this and that,
not knowing if we’re going to tease,
not knowing if we’ll reach through space
and in that world above the world,
imagining each other’s face,
touch and have our passion twirled
like string, our fingers pulling tight,
pulling at each other’s minds,
wondering if we’re wrong or right
to follow who our chatting finds.
And I wonder what she’s wearing.
Is she in a robe or some old shirt?
And does she like this time we’re sharing
or is she here to play and flirt?
And does she find my words alluring
as she’s looking at the screen,
each sentence going off exploring
though I wonder what they mean.
And I watch her words appearing,
and smile at what’s she’s saying,
And though it’s with my eyes I’m hearing,
I like the sassy way she’s playing.
She doesn’t know I’m drinking wine
when I send my cool words back.
And I wonder if she likes my line,
or if our posing ways will crack.
And I wonder what her life is like
as our fingers talk and somehow reach
inside the other’s hearts to strike
a chord that transcends speech.
And suddenly we’re asking more
as our fascination grows.
And our hearts begin to pour
as our sudden caring shows.
And it doesn’t matter what we’re wearing
as we sit in our distant rooms.
It only matters what we’re sharing
and what the other one assumes.
And somehow as we reach through space
and with our words we touch and kiss,
imagining each other’s face
and hope we’re finding bliss.
Who knows where this chat will end
when we disappear from the screen?
Will we become each others friend--
lovers in this world between,
living in this atmosphere,
never knowing where we are,
or will we both just disappear
and fade like a falling star?
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.