Gentle cool light holds me and I hold it.
We can be so supportive of each other now, symbiotic.
You can be a crutch and a confessional catalyst for my catharsis,
You can be a listening ear in the dead-time night,
You can be glorious opportunity to throw my words out into the canal and receive them back, so quick, so elegant.
You, the same machine that crushed me with your thousand emails of things I hadn’t done,
You were my labouring into heavy nights of swimming lights and streams of bitter words I didn’t feel proud of,
You were a reminder of my failing to connect, but even then, when my facebook was a social minefield and my emails were a never-willingly-visited place,
You’d let me watch your screen and fade to black, “Are you still watching?” You’d ask.
Of course I am, you absolute foolish rectangle.