and looks at pics to see if they
meet some preconceived aesthetic
of attraction. Chance encounters
at random places are remembered
through half serious adds on some
late night bender. Their random
faces populate feeds easily as
they offer their taste in politics,
love, laughter, and a million
useless things you could care less
about. Some faces are the ghosts
of past lives buried in cobwebbed
recollections best left in the attic.
We can't help but watch these faces
grow older, get married, have kids,
get fatter, divorced, while grinding
out a living at the cost of their lives.
This screen sees me, through me,
into me. Our eyes meet but,
we never do.
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