ATTACHMENTS

We send emails from screen to screen

and cannot say just what we mean;

by telephone we talk at night

but never quite get down to it.

We post each other words and signs,

but fail to read between the lines;

to meet at station bars we plan,

end up, by chance, in no one’s town.

We text abbreviated thoughts

about our days’ successes, doubts;

our lives a constant round of gigs,

our schedules full of pure success,

and in our dreams convince ourselves

we choose to live alone our lives.