After a while I run out of things to say
and poetic ways of retelling the stories
I have already told to and about you.
I can only write you so many poems.
And we are parted, dear, and my muse
is across the sea where you are.
I have no more words to describe you.
I do not know your face well enough.
I know your soul and your mind
but your body is yet unknown.
Your face is a picture, once real
and now stolen from me by reality.
Just think, ten years before now
we would likely never have met
in the way we did; I would have
remained solitary, become lonely,
and you would risk short-term friends
by moving across continents.
The world had to change, just for us.
Society reinvented itself and thus
enabled distance communication
that developed and remained
beyond all sane expectation.
They did it all for us, dear.
You see, we are an anomaly
of pixels on two distant parted screens.
We love digitally and speak
through cameras and typed words,
unable to help but always there.
Think of it: changed, just for us.