By midnight glow
A thumb that twitches
Fast then slow
A screen that hums
In liquid blue
Then serves the next
Then serves the new
A pulse that spikes
A fleeting prize
But nothing left
Behind the eyes
A drip of want
A measured hit
Scroll on some more
A thumb that twitches
Fast then slow
A screen that hums
In liquid blue
Then serves the next
Then serves the new
A pulse that spikes
A fleeting prize
But nothing left
Behind the eyes
A drip of want
A measured hit
Scroll on some more
Don't mention it
A mind on loop
A narrowed cone
Bone-lit flesh
Before a phone
Each swipe a spark
Each spark a need
A wired hunger
Fed by feed
The body stays
But the will is gone
While the thumb moves
On and on and on
_
Pikthall is a writer.
