Your words travel the globe
machine to device,
wire to line.
Captured I am in adoration.
The syllables stand bare,
without shame or embarrassment,
perfection in form and verse.
Lustfully, I dwell on your arrangements.
But I am not satisfied!
Pixels do not quench my desires.
I need your aroma to pleasure me,
and to commingle our unique essence.
The euphoria of our first intense touch
will return us to virgin purity.
Standards will fall.
I will risk the darkest prison.
No! The most permanent Hell!
and all my treasure I will trade,
to spend one blissful night with you.
If I die before meeting you,
injustice will lodge in your heart.
I will have loved only your words,
naked pixels of enduring transcendence.
Will word reach me if your life ends?
Your tender poems will cease.
I will spend years combing the earth
looking for the ashes left from your golden temple.