For Arielle


Flirting.
Your echoing still inside my ears,
Naked thoughts or repeated laughter.
A white smile or blood red lips.
I hide these lines behind black
Text.

Typing.
We are rapt with conversation of
Lives overflowing these simple
Hours appear to me as moments
Shared over latte or Thai iced
Tea.

Grinning.
Too warn this commotion.
Sex secrets or the time you
Made a bra out of bubble bath,
Stirring me from long slept distant
Dream.

5/99

Tom's Notes:

This poem is about a conversation over the internet that was so vivid and real, it was as if it had been like a close conversation in person. I give much of the credit to Arielle, the subject of this poem, for her exuberence, creativity, character, and for her incredible typing speed. There are people out there who can be exceptionally interesting with only words, and who can captivate you in a way that is as equally real and valid as a face to face conversation, and the memory of which remains as if I had met her in person over drinks in some quiet little coffee shop. When in fact I will likely never meet her in person.


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