from within

Late; lying sleepless in bed,

mentally running my private fables.

How can the feelings be fed

through fast fibre optics cables?

**

In this new world of no faces,

absence of human touch and voice.

Sucked into spider web of virtual places,

the inconceivable truth of modern choice.

**

Lines on the screen, translated

into both moist vagina and cortex.

I am spell bound and hate it,

the full emptiness of this vortex.

**

If all has been a simple banality

of an internet chess, with no risk taken,

why does it so resemble reality,

why on Earth do I feel forsaken?

**

Keyboards and plugs and monitors,

the completeness of space aggravation.

This monstrosity of a computer coitus,

a soul and body dissociation.

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