I love words I have none Tell me, How do you create without a brush? I live, do I? I’m real, am I? I’m living in a middle space There are words, drinks, business, and laughs But also I’m alone Do mirror neurons work when my screen is already flipping the sides of our faces? I look left, but you see me look right I hear words but your mouth has already been moving I think I see a tear But maybe, it’s just dust Dust on the screen I breathe in, 1 2 3 4 So sad, how this act is now tinged with a bit of fear Breathe out, 1 2 3 4 I have no words But old songs slip through the edges of my memory and my fingers remember them on the piano keys This is the air I breathe This is the air breathe Your holy presence living in me Where is your presence in the time of digital space? I have no words But sometimes, old verses slip through the edges of my memory and I cry We see through a glass dimly How does Zoom feel so much like an encounter with you? This middle space. Here and not. I have no words, but sometimes I do