A glimmer of interaction;
it's there in the glances from features at profiles,
and the angles from corners of eyes.
You would think I almost know what I'm doing.
But when stifled by a glare of sound,
I move too quickly,
taking yet another voucher
a bad day.
Is this too much of me?
Must I filter my words?
But why even this?
What once was for her
to be with me,
is now for what little satisfaction
can be found in the acknowledgment of a keyboard.
I am no more near, this day, than ever I was,
but will call it new
for a glimmer of interaction.