no illusions of greatness

here is the thing about writing:
sometimes it means first
spending hours fatiguing your
eye muscles into dark circles
before a single line
manages to eke itself out,
hours in solitude
in front of a screen
sending signals back and forth
between satellites
that let you know
you’re not alone

sometimes i write
because i am striving to connect
to someone, somewhere, who is
waiting, nerves open,
as i have waited,
hoping to connect with someone
who has been searching
as i have searched

most often i write
in pages no one will ever see
which i myself will forget

but these words
here, now,
they are for those
who are, like me,
sifting through all
of the blips for a
reminder that we are
real, and so is this
aloneness, and that
perhaps with enough
mutual reaching out
we can traverse the
bits and bytes and
find ourselves
facing one another
in real time

wondering what
will come next
imagining
who else we might
find and add
to our web.

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