Channels I long refused to explore, suspicious
of authenticity prospects, auspicious contacts,
using the web of a poisonous spider, to comply
with society, posting illusions, tweeting whims.
Social circles to flaunt an image, attempting to say
something unheard, as I, unable to scent the body
humours of connecting minds, build a fortress erecting
firewalls of scepticism for a glimpsing human touch,
disguising
in a suit knitted with closeness pretence threads,
between persons separated by oceans, mountains
so high climbers suffocate at their summit, so far
from the ground they are as virtual as this acquaintance.
An encounter with the unknown, for all I know is we both
artfully pen realities to undress the masked and imagine
a nascent bond inspiring these words, out of my mind
and onto the keyboard, just as your words unexpectedly
slithered out of the screen and straight into me.
[Featured painting: I meant to by Lorraine Christie]