Ouroboros is typing a reply…

/ Just Barry

Ouroboros is typing a reply…

“I miss you.”

She had typed each letter
carefully
with thumbs that already knew the way.

That was at least a half-hour ago,
electronically,
via direct-message, which was
a slightly incomplete method
of describing one-way messages
traveling the speed of light
towards their destinations;

A miracle of technology
that may as well had been substituted
by carrier pigeon
or message in a bottle,
for all the good it did her tonight,
or any other night she found herself

waiting.

She stares at her phone
for a notification that won’t come
quickly enough,
or perhaps ever.

Who can say with that boy?

God damn him.

God damn that lovely,
delicious boy.

God damn his dreamy eyes
and his earthy scent.

He is taken with another.

She knows this
and tries to shrug this truth away,
knowing he knows the way back to her,
knowing she will open to receive

his sweetness

despite all common sense;
he doesn’t deserve her grace, but
she’ll extend it for as long as it takes
as long as it extends their private duets.

She needs to know she still matters to him,
even knowing that all that knowing does
is make her bite her lip,
chewing on his absence.

She waits,
ingesting delicious potions,
hash-laced chocolates,
and green smoke; she’s faded,
divided against herself;

her mind craves comforts
her body finds increasingly toxic,
pooling upon her needy tongue,
seeping into her spleen and spine.

His saccharine non-declarations,
when whispered softly into her
arched spine under cover of night,
warm her bones against her
malnourished brain’s better judgment;

when etched electronically,
they relieve her scanning eyes
while stinging her perceptive heart.

And when there is nothing but his silence,
that leaves only text that never refreshes.

Two hours fall away into nothing,
and there is nothing from that foolish,
delicious, selfish boy.

She logs off social media

a rather incomplete method of
describing some rather
anti-social behavior

closing apps, tabs, and legs
for another lonely evening
of binge-watching stories
of lonely characters behaving foolishly,

perpetuating their own loneliness.
***

Shared on Real Toads The Tuesday Platform.

13 thoughts on “Ouroboros is typing a reply…”

  2. An epic tale that seems to be as old as time and one that will be repeated far into the future.

    I loved “A miracle of technology
    that may as well had been substituted
    by carrier pigeon
    or message in a bottle”

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  3. This is an excellent poem . Brilliant in its subject matter and poetically nuanced expression. It brings to our attention the pitfalls of social media which excacerbates the loneliness and vulnerability of many. in certain circumstances,hanging out for contact and kind words.Sad and true. I think the message in the bottle and carrier pigeon is a more romantic and better option in many respects:)
    Conversely social media may be the only satisfactory contact many people enjoy.The opportunity of communicating with people you would never meet in real life experience and the exchange of ideas can be enriching. Once again another interesting thought provoking poem I had to check out the what the title meant. Very apt. Enjoyed this poem immensely.

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    • Thank you for the wonderful compliments. But now I’m not sure I want to make a series of this. I’d be worried tjat the next installment won’t measure up to the original. 😅

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  4. …
    I am so overwhelmed by the emotions in this poem ❤️.. and resonate so strongly with them! I can’t even begin to describe how accurate these feelings which you have portrayed are .. that constant craving .. that urge to touch, to learn, to know what the other is thinking.. and oh that longing when you know the person you want so badly fancies another is indescribable and continues to plague us even past hours when the moon is high in the sky. This, and so much more goes on inside the mind and heart. I sometimes wonder how it’s possible for one person to feel so strongly while the other is completely indifferent? Sigh..❤️

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    • I agree with you, though it can be tragically easy for the smitten one to mistake composure and/or social anxiety for indifference. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. 😊

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  5. Wow, wow! So perfect, and funny how perfectly that Prince song goes, penned before the advent of pining for a text message and watching your phone for THAT notification so desperately wanted. I feel slightly unnerved peeking in at this woman, and understand where she’s at.

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    • We can probably find a Prince song for a broad spectrum of matters of the heart. I’m unnerved as well; we’ve probably all been that woman at some point. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. 😊

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    • I heard a comedian once lamenting that in the future, when everything will be instantaneous — not just communication, but EVERYTHING, even matter — a routine visit to the Department of Motor Vehicles will still take nine freaking unbearable seconds.

      Thanks for visiting me and leaving a note. 😊

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