Sonnet 18.1

Shall I confine love to the text we send

During the witching hours, bewitching ourselves. 

From one 'Hi' to the late 'Good Bye', hours we spend, 

Leaving all our work unfinished on our shelves. 

I picture holding you as I hold my phone, 

Inching you close, sliding touches on your face. 

Finding ways to impress, leaving no unturned stone, 

Hearts dead still, as the fingers find their pace. 

But what if, to explore more of love we dare, 

Only to find that in person we're not the same. 

Finding, but silence; no words or smiles to share, 

Realizing we had no love, for it was just a game. 

Let not the fear of then interrupt our present flow, 

For if things go wrong, we could block each other, you know! 

#ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit