Streaming
energy drains from stiff wrists
nimble fingers do the talking
without eye contact
we slump into the grip of isolation
our chests  tighten
like a vise around a ripe tomato
the loneliness erupts
In a shower of pale flavorless depression
we grasp for light

Streaming
like a rogue poltergeist
from the palms of our hands
from thin glowing notebooks
and tablets on our desks
teaching  the false commandments
etched in the dissolvable stone tablets
Promises of quick fixes for exhausted neuro receptors
Passages into elite kingdoms
Where partners choose us
we return hour after hour
chasing warmth of a dopamine hit

Streaming
bonds us over games and banal conversation
where the shelter of connection
collapses under the weight of intimacy
faster than the roof on a house of cards on a wobbly table
where false friendships
and sleepovers with bots
bind and gag us slowly
with their velvety dark suffocation
and addiction to an  artificial community

Julia Masi