Baby has cold.
Baby has a cold; watery eyes,
Staccato cough. Cough. Cough.
Baby has a cold;
Mucus covered lullabies, halt.
The night-light dim dimming in the day,
And bunny lies lonely by his head.
Baby has a cold;
Baby’s in bed. Out of bed, in my arms.
Baby cries. Red eyes, Rosie cheeks.
Shiny nose. Red nose. Crusty nose.
Baby has a cold.
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
You can Like them later – or rather, you probably won’t.
Throbbing and dry.
These are the eyes,
Straining to see you,
Through the darkness.
Dimming then bright.
Those are the stars,
Splashing around you,
Wonky star light.
I’d resorted to using a website
For lack of natural introductions,
(a curse of a more modern age).
In my naïveté, I thought it more honest,
A chance for virtual reciprocation,
or, where a tangible love could bloom.
So, after searching for the right date site
(and this took much procrastination!)
I found one with feasible Connections,
And that’s when I found you.
I’d shilly-shallied before I ‘waved’
(I felt mechanical in my deliberations)
Heart stomping: ‘This? Antithesis of romance!’
I’d ruled out the sexagenarian,
He had Viagra, but owned no notion
Of what is to be Christian.
And the posh man with the Porsche,
(He earned 70K, and had just won a promotion)
But challenged my personal belief in creation.
You: the frankness of your emails wooed me,
(and, you were blasé about your diction)
You had me, when you texted me in the afternoon.
But then, on iMessage you confused me;
Silence. A sudden loss of basic communication.
Should I Skype you, to find you? Or Vibre, or Text?
No heart-full words on WhatsApp, and we’d not Facebooked.
Oh! Remember when we had one phone?
When there was just one answer machine?
The red light either blinked, or it didn’t.
We have a plethora of forms for expression
In twenty first C – your silence scares me,
I really like you. But, you’re just not into me.
(Inspired by the film, ‘He’s just not that into you’)