Thou knowest, brother
All the heroes of the tales
Being so flat become so vivid
In our minds in every scale
And you don't know how you did it.
It's a trick that memory summons
Skimming cream from dusty flickers
Of our faded days behind us
With a drop of dreamy liquor.
What about real people
Made of flesh instead of pages?
Does this fact somehow belittle
Life a real person stages?
What if they, despite being real,
Now are just a set of letters
And distorted sound to deal with?
What if that's what really matters?
Even though a screen's between us,
Miles of cords in tons of plastic,
Ocean's depths and heights of mountains,
We have bond.
It's so elastic
It can stretch across the planet,
It's so hard it can't be broken.
It is strong. It's good to have it.
And it always is unspoken.
Life is short as wink when sneezing
From a dust on tender palate.
We will find a chance for meeting
On this tiny rocky planet.