No Service Here

We raise our hand to capture a moment we ought not lose; We miss out on the occasion, but we don’t see the ruse. I’d rather hear your laugh, than glance down at “lol”. I’d rather see your grin, feel your nudge, and smell your smell. One thousand and one connections, sent across the land; We disregard affection, to hold a phone and not a hand. We exchange a pearl of time, to fixate on distraction; Becoming foreign to the charm and nuance of attraction, There’s magic found in subtlety that often goes unseen; Does your face glow with expression or the aura of a screen? Send to me a signal, let nothing interfere; You’ll have to use your soul because there is no service here.