Television Love

 

Like some black and white set

my love is.

After I turned it off,

shut off those feelings

and words

something remained:

 

a dot in the centre

grew again

against my wishes.

 

You are the ghost

in my machine

but I can’t seem

to tune you in,

cannot touch your hair,

your skin

 

And I can’t turn you on;

it seems so trite

but there’s nothing on

again

tonight.

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