I tend the mobile now
like an injured bird
We text, text, text
our significant words.
I re-read your first,
your second, your third,
Look for your small xx,
feeling absurd.
The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord.
I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred.
Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard.
DUFFY, C. Disponível em: www.independent.co.uk. Acesso em: 27 out. 2021.
