Interspaces

We send messages across servers
wires and cables connecting our thoughts
Words drifting around the mundaneness of our daily chores
Wait let me put the garbage out and call you
Fifteen minutes, my network is patchy, you’re not coming through
pictures as markers of our day, week and sometimes a whole month.
Where have our faces gone, digital distortion of time,
space and our debates
rushed mornings against sleepless nights
Fruit peels in the interstices of our screen,
placing us on a singular plane,
stitching together a frame of intimacy