Some reach and find a hand
Others stretch and their fingers
Grasp onto only empty space
That lingers on and on
Easier then to feel the cold reassurance of your phone on your skin
A connection at least
We are told
There is a sacredness in the scenes that are unseen
The loneliness is not lost in a like
It is found in the absence in our hearts
And the way we feed ourselves crumbs from
Other people's tables.
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