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.