If we don’t know we are prisoners
How can we begin to fight?
If we bury ourselves
In sexy tech, then
Skin-on-skin, laughter, holding chubby baby hands, warmth, tears, heart-pounding sweaty love, ink on paper, the way the light shines in your eyes, the sun, the stars, the snow, the clean delicious taste of you
Is lost to another day.
by Julie Blue 