Your Avacado Tones

If asked..but no one ever will What I miss most I am torn Is it the champagne of your skin? The silken purity Or your Love in its rawest most vulnerable desperate clinging clutching beauty Or is it the avacadoness of your voice? Your rolling...Har you spoke my name...over and over But perhaps it is your avid wandering searching ever learning mind? Did you say HTML...or was it Adobe...or a theoretical mathematical three dimensional formulation of angles and curves...bacon strips or drops theory Did I love you? Dropped to knees Fallen to floor Pulled over as not to hurt others with my car You ask for an answer that the entire universe knows all too too well But somehow...you missed the memo No one sends memos anymore Its all group text and conference calls..and video chattings Will there be remnant markings in the geologic strata that show the remnants of cell phones and laptops like Dinasuar bones today...will they say ...they lived in the Facebookian era...or the twiterian...or instagramian...or the lostmindian Just saying...we have all gone completely mad and we are soon to be dust from dust...bone from bone and fast worthy of deep reflective and historical folly study