You’ve screened me just to be sure,
then you tap me, scroll through me.
Sometimes you pause and ponder,
amazed and caught up in wonder.
Other times you carelessly pass me by,
or send me a noncommittal emoji smile.
So I should not complain when I too,
plead guilty to doing the same thing,
revelling in the miracle of instant messaging.
I could record my voice on sound cloud
or send my picture on instagram,even post
my selfie of how I want you to see me.
But see, here’s the thing – you’ll never
hear the natural acoustics of my voice,
or feel the satin warmth of my tanned skin
and you’ll never see my dark eyes crinkle,
when I throw my head back with laughter,
Nor will you see my flickering turned-on switch.
I’ll never know through your witty quips,
if it is the truth that comes from your lips,
or whether your heart beats just as fast
as mine, when I see my screen light up.
But there is merit in following imagination,
a place for recreation of who we want to be.