from the collection, “Leap”

She misses perfumed postcards,
snail mail letters;
conversations in cafés
without the words,
“hang on, I have to get this call.”

She misses eye contact:
knowing gazes and
flirty glances
that overpower
the urge to send an SMS
or answer the sound
of someone somewhere
logging into chat.

She texts and types
Tweets and Skypes,

then sleeps outside
where stars and
fireflies decorate the
infinite darkness.