You said on a certain site
that you missed
a certain someone.
Your friends replied with jokes
I didn’t understand.
Was it your new boo
one of them mentioned,
a week or so ago?

That writing on your wall
took me somewhere unfamiliar:
a metropolis,
high rises towering,
windowpanes reflective,
security guards stood sentry
in opulent doorways.

Do they look out inside?
I cannot see them.
Yet fortunes
have been made,
from the words
we have all written.

I long for something true.
Like your hot tears
on my naked back,
the first time
I tried to end things
between us.

No one knows
how that felt
except the me
that was with you
in those encrypted moments,
that sped by
at fibre-optic speed,
one by one by one.