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Technicolor Yawn
Displacing,
lazy forensics slide on liquid crystal-
dis-placing displays
painlessly.
Foliage clutters sigh at my prints.
Seen!
He appeared in Helvetica,
Winning at enthrallment.
Unlatching the fence,
he lets the prize fawn
wander into my limbic field.
Where my heart was,
is a quivering keyboard.
Where my stomach was,
is a Technicolor yawn.
He speaks to me with his eyes closed
while I throw grappling hooks, coiled with every nerve in my wrist.
The lowercase consumes me
and drowns me
inarticulate
under the perfect cyber wave.
To the satellites and back, my love.
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