I waited a half an hour to see if you'd get online
and now that you are I'm waiting 5 minutes
to greet you so I don't seem clingy or desperate.
Then you ask about my day followed by a sideways smiley face
And I make up something about a 2 mile walk-
when in reality all I did was watch back to back episodes
of Star Trek: Deep Space 9.
Then I sit back and wait because you seem to be typing an awful lot,
but in 5 minutes when I receive the message it's just the letters "L O L"
A secret code that means you have nothing interesting to say,
and neither do I but comfortable silence doesn't exist on the Internet.
So I ask you "whats up?"
and fade away into a thought bubble
where your eyes are deep brown-
like a puddle on the playground.
Your blonde curls sway in the wind of an oscillating fan-
like you were going down a slide,
And your typing fingers draw scenes
with white sidewalk chalk
of squirrels crawling up pine trees
while rain spews down on a triangle house
with frowny face girl-
but with a ping from my computer speaker that thought fades.
And I have to wait long enough to reply so it seems like I've fully read,
and understood your story before I can type back-
clunking my thick fingers against the dusty gray letters
of my keyboard.
This is the online dance that we do,
but I can only imagine my hand on your hip-
swaying way off beat of the music,
but perfectly in sync with you like we
were on playground swings,
and then you inform me that