Oh baby, kiss me thru the phone

 I will never see your elbows and knees. I will never inhale the scent of your neck or feel the softness of your hair. I will never observe how you sputter when angry or jump at the sound of a mosquito in your ear. I will never fit my face into the curve of your shoulder or feel the warmth of your embrace but I will love you with all my heart, my internet lover. 

I wait each day for your like, your retweet, your post and your message. Responsibilities scream my name, my real life duties beckon to me but the anticipation of your response renders me incapable of looking away from my phone screen. Did you find my joke funny? Did you notice my hidden meaning? Can you tell I love you through my little silly messages?

You will never know how your username lights up my chest, you will never see the pure delight on my face. We cannot see each other, but I see you in my dream. And although your hair changes, your face changes, your gender changes, your nationality changes and your name changes, you are still my favourite, my digital lover. 

This is insane. This is not normal, this is a plague onto my heart. My heart rate is increased, my palms have begun to sweat, my stomach is upset and the cause of my illness has never stood in front of me before. The lovebug has evolved and now it bites you through the phone, I wish you would kiss me through the phone. I wish you could kiss me when you like my message.

My phone, my dear blasted phone that has led me to you. With it, I have met you and I have fallen for you. Because of it, I am fated to yearn endlessly without ever feeling your hair pass through my fingers. On my bed, staring at your message, I reach my arm out and I try to reach you, but only air kisses my fingers and it is my ceiling that is in my vision. I cry like a fool. 

The love in my heart is hurting me, it is a burden on my life. I am completely unarmed in this relentless battle and each hit is a lightning hot caress. I am physically affected by your sweet digital presence. 

My body is restless.  My heart is aching, tired of beating solely for you, but it just cannot help itself. My fingers crave the skin on your cheek and the hairs on your head. My eyes stare at my notebook, but they see your face. My lungs wish they could reject oxygen because they want to be filled instead with the scent inhaled from your neck. My legs want to run to you, regardless of all the kilometres. My ears daydream of your voice without the static, without the telecommunications medium. I want you, I wish on stars for you.