The screen reveals you

Twenty years younger And yet twenty years old Scrabbling upon the Black and white kitchen floor And all I see is Your waxy skin Thin limbs Soft hands Dirty blond hair And red fingernail polish

You struggle on your knees As you pursue your blond Laughing infant

A moment of pleasure Found under the table A moment of leisure Which has never escaped you You who knows how to hold onto Forever Both the material and invisible