Stumble

Even without the scent of yellowed paper,
Or the whisper of cheap cigar smoke-breath,
Mere cold text on flickering screen
Bring wraiths of echoed conversations past
And summer nights with just a hint
Of springtime, winter, clinging hopelessly to the air;
A crisp chill and fairy (city) lights
Warmed by young love's sweet soft kiss.

As eyes travel down a silent (humming) screen,
(Faint rain percussion and mouse-click accompaniment)
I shudder, memory mingled with murmuring dis-ease
And persistent, pesky pangs of squeezed-heart pain,
A discomfort birthed from a faint feeling
Of intruding on the secret conversation
Of two people I knew once,
Long ago - and no more.