Scrolled through the screen
your camping photographs
magic in the hearts,
in every laugh.
Soothing starflights of my nights
I savored intimate clues
I could read them on your face
felt like I was there with you.

How I miss all those texts
from prattle to science and art
something told only for me
uniquely soppy, soulful and smart.
Always wanted to know how you were
to calm if you needed to cry
but your words got formal and few
the wait turned to months
I got no reply.

Pondered every pun
refined odes that I wrote
you deserved the best
not glowless notes.
But today I cannot tell
how much your thoughts really mean
when I sense that those red hearts
fill now someone else's screen.

How I miss all those texts..

No ring of thrill
another week scrolled by
downhearted
seeking between the lines
what you tried to imply.
(no blame, just wondering why...)

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