I gave up Facebook for Lent, and I miss it.
We do not share our journey with just anyone
We pick and choose who we spend time with,
This one is too sharp edged, to negative
That one has no spine, lacks color, or taste.
We pick who, and how, and when.
Of course, they pick us as well.
How else can you account for feeling so at home
So close to someone you just met
A face in the crowd, or a face in the book?
Our pockets are full of friends.
Contemplating the sun that may have been
Or the moonrise that we just missed
Makes of our heart sea sponges in fresh water
Surrounded by what we think we might need
Gasping for breath nonetheless.
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