Mind and Metal by Paris Phillips

There are many people here
packed within this room.
I hear the chatter in black static,
a silent “how are you?”

The room is buzzing with the quiet,
no words come from lips.
Instead I hear the metronome
of glass against finger tips.

A conversation between mind and metal
where true connections dare not lie.
Oh! How rude I must be
to look a friend in the eye.

I feel better when I talk to you
without our pockets buzzing.
Tweets come only from the birds
and likes do not replace loving.

I feel better when you and I face body to soul.
Metal may break and screens may crack

but our connection will never grow old.

 
 
 
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