this is

what are these letters?
what are these words, these images,
except a bunch of lies i’ve put together
to construct a wall around myself, or around
you? where are you, anyway? where do i
fit you into the large, blackened and charred
photo frame that insulates my world
and keeps it comfortable? in this
computerized age what are we when we are
away from the computers that keep us
separated? if it isn’t data what is its
worth? i don’t even truly know
what love is. and you can tell me
that you do, if that’s what you want.
you can try to tell me what this is, you can
tell me anything you want to,
and anything you need to.