The Lion's Book: A Poetry Collection

Transitions

There's nothing but a

Dark denim expanse left now;

An almost naked sky,

Troubled and contorted into

An painful emptiness

Like hideous frowny faces

On a pixelated canvas. 

No longer does the

Gentle intercourse of

Ones and zeros illuminate it;

No longer does the intimate wisp

Of cumulonimbus dreams

Decorate its skin. 

The desire for a baby blue smile

Has been violated by the spite

Of a distance

More than all the ones and zeros

And x's and o's--

Of a distance

Vast as the shade of the sky. 

The exchanges of textual affections

Dissapated with the clouds

And the hollow lust of 

The star-crossed. 

What is there to do but

Glance up at the blueness

And await the strike of a

Bolt of electricity

Or an SMS "goodbye"

To course through my heart?