Instant-textual War

Instant gratification has slaughtered camaraderie.
He takes a higher spot on your top friends because you suck his mouth and
dictating your pseudo surreal rendezvous has become the topic of Livejournal comment pages.
He becomes your frisky bedfellow through clicking phone keys and for you, it is sufficient.

He lays back with his hands behind his head while you take it all in.
This is convenient and detached in all the places it needs to be
and intimacy fills in the spaces love is lacking.
He need not more than insinuate for you to knock at the door of opportunity.
Yet, you leave with little more than what you came with.
With fingers flying across the keyboard you orchestrate the details of this lusty reunion.

And I, I ask what happened to the telling brush of a cheek,
the emotion that rose from stories of ever afters?
When did a hidden triste become enough satisfaction
and instant messages take the places of roses
and the ring of a new message replace "I love you"?

The war being waged between away messages is at a stand still.
Neither he nor you will advance.
Both decorated heros in the battles of affection
but never fighting for a gain.

In the desolate field of drying crab grass you mirror one another
arms crossed, not willing to budge.
And in this,
he has won.

Author's Note

I need to work on it, but this is just what I have off the top of my head.

Suggestions are greatly appreciated!

Reviews

[Andrea A. Wentz]

Very deep! Very true, but the words you weave create depths not easily seen when looking at the same situation for a moment. Excellent piece and I greatly enjoyed the imagery!

[deathcabxcutiex]

almost forgot, love:
"He becomes your frisky bedfellow through clicking phone keys and for you" , and the shout out to LiveJournal (man, that takes me back!), and the away message war standstill ahhhhhhh all MUAH delicioso.

[deathcabxcutiex]

Delicious. I am seriously in love with this.
Beautifully written, I love the stutter in paragraph 3, and the lines:
"pseudo surreal rendezvous" ,
"He lays back with his hands behind his head while you take it all in.
This is convenient and detached in all the places it needs to be"
AND
"In the desolate field of drying crab grass you mirror one another
arms crossed, not willing to budge.
And in this,
he has won."
Not sure if I like the word "triste", but may be just me...