She’s a wreck in this

world

an app-driven kingdom

of photos

to swipe

left or right,

saying: 

take me or leave me.

 

How did you meet,

a friend asks her

with a blatant curiosity

that comes hand-in-hand

only with brunch

on Saturday morning.

 

I met him on my phone,

girl, she laughed:

where else do you meet

where else do we shop

for our favorite love brands?

 

In October last year

her fiancé

split

with kindness

and uncertainty.

 

Later that month

she re-learned

an awkward first date

was just not worth

the time.

 

She went back for more.

 

How many first dates

does it take

to discover

something beautiful?

 

To connect

with something real?

 

In late November

she tripped

over a man

who shared his pain

with her open heart

and she lost sense

of herself

altogether.

 

December and January

forgave her rolling head

and allowed her

to play

to speak

to explore

to feel pleasure.

 

Then came February:

the coldest month

yet

and she shivered knowing

she was

supposed

to love herself.

 

But.

 

She is a wreck in this

world

An app-driven kingdom

when all she wants

is a warm body

to wake up to

and someone

to cook dinner

and read poetry aloud to

and wonder about the world

and laugh at the absurdity

and devour each other’s essence

each day.

 

So.

 

It’s a wreck of a world. 

 

And the cracked

iPhone screen

accompanies

her heartbeat

instead.