No length
Of frantic texts
Holds words
To do us
Justice

In breaths
Of honest waiting
For that chance
We’d come
Alive

Like stars
Within our space
Between lies
And glaring
Distance

Upon
Such heavens wasted
As these fingers
Dance their
Curse

Where screens
Not feelings dwell
Amid answers
Cold
But fitting

For fixtures
Hurt
From bearing
What gifts remain
Unseen

Bright
As futures
Sold
By the persons
Praying solace

All love
Which stays
Unnoticed
Need not break
Their curse

Beyond
That phantom touch
Of a heart
So rarely
Captured

Among
Those quiet wishes
When each day
Falls into
Dusk

Finding
Lonely tasks
Are the fuel
Which spur
Resistance

Despite
What reaches
Challenge
False skies
Of empty worlds

Typed
Yet never
Sensed
Or shared
As flesh intended

While smells
And other details
Fade quick
Like hinted
Bliss

Proving
Fate can last
If only
Phones were
Human

Programmed
Not for telling
But an app
Which takes us
Home.

– J. Pigno