The Reunion - 2023

​When will I finally let you go,
How do you firmly grip me so?
Few things bring as much joy,
Daydreaming of you is the only toy,
I never get bored of and ditch.
The synthesized feelings are so rich,
That you should receive class A control,
Lest you bewitch society, as a whole.
I knew reconnection was risky, and hence,
When I saw you after long absence,
Walking out of the underground,
With headphones blasting sound,
Worrying about local warming;
How your freezers were performing,
With your black dress, red lips,
And pink flowers in your grip,
There was merely resignation:
“I’m still fairly fucked.”
[…]
I’m in a cocoon of illusory strands,
Cerebral spinnerets did this deed,
Weaving which needed no hands,
I’m powerless to stop the feed,
And via those phantom-fangs,
All traces of dopamine siphoned,
To be retrieved only through paths
Where I’m beholding you enlightened.
[…]
Nonetheless, for this I had prepared,
These events were in part calculated,
And I hope I am not so bad at maths,
And since after months of disconnection,
We finally re-established a rapport,
Now I might indeed find succour,
In the know that we part amicable,
And when I leave this sodden land,
Consigning to the past most therein,
To one wracked by wind and flame,
Riven by war within and without,
Yet where the seeds of future flourish,
The image of you I carry thither,
Imperfect recreation, locked in my circuitry,
During myriad conversations we’ll never have,
Will smile at me more oft than not,
And one day, if our paths again intertwine,
I can anticipate a glad reunion.