When I close the screen, I feel the light softly go out in the room where your pixelated cheeks just blushed for me. I wonder if, all the way on the other side of your universe, when closing your laptop, do you feel the sounds of our instant disconnection? Feeling screenshot in isolation, with every Zoom remaining so close yet further away, glimpsing you, glowing there with one click, turn on the hotspot seeking out the reconnection, yet somehow, we are always waiting for scroll news of the pandemic fading and vaccines at CVS, our wishes reach past our reflections still, is it real without masks? Making out face time, letting my fingers speak… mouthing for me scrolling up a little bit closer to our nightly midnight view. No matter how long we link, there are no shortcuts from our flickering webcams this resolution of longing, I cursor this LED distance one day we will meet IRL, sans mask after social distancing shut-down ends our persistence instantly messaging keeps us connected… still before signing off, always clicking sparks more than like, you love our electric hearts, glowing face time no matter how distant, needing you so much closer on our instant touchscreen.
Adrian Ernesto Cepeda is the author of Flashes & Verses… Becoming Attractions from Unsolicited Press, Between the Spine from Picture Show Press and La Belle Ajar from CLASH Books.
His poetry has been featured in Harvard Palabritas, Glass Poetry: Poets Resist, Cultural Weekly, Yes, Poetry, Frontier Poetry, The Fem, poeticdiversity, Rigorous, Luna Luna Magazine, The Wild Word, The Revolution Relaunch and Palette Poetry. Adrian is an Angelino Poet who lives with his wife and their adorably spoiled cat Woody Gold in Los Angeles.