Connection

It's 1 am
Yet his face glows
Hands close to heart and nose
We barely speak
I'm frozen
Eyes scanning the screen
Guess he's chosen

And in the morning he wakes with a jingle
Fingers grasping for relief
An audible sigh as he swipes
Hands silently gliding, he types

In the afternoon he comes close
And I wonder almost out loud
What is it he sees
His reflection or me
Forgetting the promises we vowed

The next few days I miss his voice
As we slowly watch the blaze
The whispers of our devices
Claw through this lasting haze

Declaring us winners
Claiming we're free
The lies of a siren circle both him and me