Connection

And a response, usually spoken

Even to a stranger

At the gift of hello

And melt in gratitude

To soar in joy

I can release my heart

That when I can remember

And through my night

God gave me a secret of inner wealth

But I survived

Of supposed total independence

A romance with the lie

Of near prefect isolation

Whose magic had enabled a life

And always a phone near

Many such days

Whose result might be the rubber room

A pitiful cry for help

So as to render them like me

Might drink so much of their life

That the great void within me

I might bleed them dry

Fearful that in that instant

Just to feel the contact

To clutch at someone

To attach my body to another

If I gave the impulse breath

Afraid of what they would think

Terrified of my own desperation

My soul a chilled, bottomless goblet

I have stood in a public place

Was it an illusion of connectedness?

This magic has allowed it so

Many removed from my proximity

In my heart I have treasured

Little boxes of magic

The can speak to a friend

Anytime, most anywhere