This body needs to express itself.

This heart wants to communicate.

Not into thin air but with you.

It wants to be received.

 

It wants to arrive somewhere, with someone.

Not on the white of this screen,

though moving its fingers on the keyboard, it feels,

is an arrival also, a somewhere to go and being received.

 

Moving its fingers along the music through space,

It touches air, a you as well.

For moments, it has arrived.

Then, it looks for human eyes looking back.

 

It longs to be seen.

It longs to be touched.

Grateful to the keyboard, to the air it breaths,

It knows it needs human touch, the touch of kin. You.

 

Glad for the music streaming through headphones,

It wants to hear your true voice, singing to it sweetly.

It wants to sing with you, my dear.

 

Tired of itself, it wants to escape that narrow world of self reflection.

Then, when its hand touches its cheek

It knows there is no I but experience only.

Communion.

 

And when it looks at its reflection again, reluctantly,

It suddenly sees across the mirror into a beautiful world.

It was touched deeply by the buzz of a fluorescent light.

An experience of pure love.

It is utterly surprised.