So Technosexual </3

I can see it coming,
Even in the moment we are the closest,
the hyperbole reaches its zenith,
and I know it is not long in coming.
I cannot help but look at her face,
this demon, angel, death incarnate,
My demonic angel faced death,
as she prepares for the final blow.
What tenderness I see in her gaze,
Almost as if she too dreads what must come,
A breath, a pause,
Loving words whispered in my ear,
There is that tender gaze again,
Her eyes a pool of tenderness and sadness to match mine,
It will not be long now.
What thoughts are going through her mind,
Are they the same as mine,
Does she know what I know,
Does she know that I know?
Why is it that our most tender moment,
Is inevitably our last?
It will not do to torture myself any longer,
Instead I choose to dwell in the moment,
In this climax of tenderness,
Intoxicated by her words and her scent,
Lost in her loving caresses,
Leaving many things unsaid.
It is not long in coming,
I feign sleep as she approaches,
And puts her mouth to my ear,
“Goodnight sweet prince” she whispers,
Before she administers her kiss of Death

There is more separating us than distance,

Several times we’d bridged the gap,

And a thousand miles may as well have been two feet,

Now, five feet may just as well be five thousand miles,

And though we’d crossed the digital divide,

We have nothing to show for it,

Other than caresses long absorbed,

And promises, carried by the wind,

Love and hope hang in the balance,

Frigid uncertainty maintains it in limbo,

Sadness and doubt abound,

Fear anchoring me to hope,

Wishing, wanting, yearning,

Nightly nostalgia sets in,

Wishing to feel the ghost of your lips,

Wanting to know and be free of this uncertainty,

Yearning for your words,

No matter what they may carry,

I would break these walls separating us,

Had I the strength to do so,

This wall lacking in substance,

Created by absence,

Separating demonic angels from angelic demons,

And I fear that I shall no longer drink from the holy grail of your lips.