By Gavin Elias

Nothing.

Ghost lights from the laptop screen

Push the dark back a few inches,

Just enough to see the cell phone mute

On the mahogany table.  Fingers twitch,

Waiting for the quiver: an orgasmic

Buzz of vibrating, oscillating metal, a

Repl-

 

Minutes tick by in silence; amorphous digital forms

Shift on the inkblot clock, eroding the night

And my optimism.  Thoughts whirl,

Mounting hurricanes of doubt that ravage

The embittered landscape of my

Mind that waits, yearns – needs

Your voice, your darkened scribbles.

The cold touch of backlit glass.

 

Shadows linger beyond the pale hum of

The mechanical glowworm.  Hiding

Nothing.  A murmur splits the roaring calm.

My mind races: you – beautiful spasm,

Scooping and raking my gut li-

Hands distend, knuckles cracking.

Nothing.

Nothing yet.