In the evening, we surrender to our
screens: they command, we submit.
Sound-cancelling headphones for me;
some use earbuds. No one speaks.
Beautiful lady, may I
slide my fingers into your ears?
You do not hear me: your earbuds
block my fingers. No one speaks.
Too intimate you say
—would say, if I could enter you.
Wait: a child is dying; her
mother and I weep, on Netflix.
No one speaks.