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Click hereWhat can you know of people you don't know?
Here we chat, we flirt, we argue. Suffer. Whine.
Yes, we connect, but only partially. Sometimes
we're close, sometimes we're not. Just goes to show
the importance of embrace, of touch. How
just to see your face would seem so right—
or his, or hers. Lives so connect on sight.
We're visual creatures, and as such, are low,
but nervy, interested, often pervy,
founts of jealousy and doubt and more
gossipy than older maids. At end we are
poets, and our verse can be very good or
simply bad. We write. We write of sex, of war,
of flowerpots, of how lemons prevent scurvy.
I felt like you were writing about us (well, not me so much, since I'm a newer member of the community, but still...).
"For love is blind, but with the fleshly eye..." ~ beauty is revealed.
And now the sonnet. Though there are quite a few variants of the sonnet, just exploring here could take awhile. In any case, very nicely done, describing the isolation of the poet. Almost like the modern day web surfer.
I enjoyed reading this and loved the ending. Witty and tender, mentioned in today's new poem reviews.