21st Century Closure

21st Century Closure

Now.
Blue Ariel Narrow on a backlit screen,
our words
  scroll up
    and
       disappear
  forever.
We are
         unaccountable
with miles of wires
between us,
and more comfortable that way.

Then.
It was clay and not soul:
I liked the feel of your hands,
you liked the feel of my skin.
The snow kissed your eyelashes,
the wind played in your hair.
Even the weather longed to touch you.

Now.
I'm ethereal,
  your
<electronicangel><chatspeakcutie><cyberpal><gamergal>
It's the monitor
that makes my face glow
and not any sort of
      hope.

I refuse to send you a newer picture.