After the Cyber Dating
Erotic prayers are typed like tattoos
on her virtual skin. She clutches at this man;
prints his likeness under her tongue. His words
are as close as a bedtime story told to her flesh.
An fleshy fruit grows ripe, tactile,
Wet desires hung from neuronal dendrites.
They meet at the verge of a vision,
still conversing to distant screens
yet now on a real-life set.
Motel doors slam. Guests clomp
and call through echoing corridors.
From each side of twin lamps,
they lay tongue-tied. Tangled sheets
their only eloquence.
Later, they lose each other
as bats will
when caught in the glare of the sun.
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