Poem: Busy

I thought it a shame, as you click clicked
That you missed the warmth of a small body,
And the softest hair at his nape.
As you swipe swiped, I wanted to name you apathy, but for your self-regard.
I swallow around the tight ball
To collect blinks, a lifted chin, a
Precious smile.
You can Like them later – or rather, you probably won’t.

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