by Carmina Masoliver

we grew up on html

love was a cartoon heart
pink or red
we dissected some cold slab of meat in science labs

and with that, every Disney film turned dirty
we would publicise our most private thoughts
kidding ourselves it was poetry
when it was catharsis at best

love was chat rooms and msn
love was xxx
love was taken back to the times of courtly love
letters on screens and stomachs
would flip, not with the touch or grip of your crush
but a bedroom blush at the flash from offline to online

love was romance
love was distance
love was a flicker in the periphery
but it always ended in a request for a naked photograph

<b> asl? </b>
<a href=” “>

we grew up on html

we edited our lives to make them look better
with sepia and high contrast
with hearts and smilies
we proclaimed our friends as the best in the world
placed them on pedestals
but cried to ourselves when we weren’t number one
on their top friend’s list on MySpace

we grew up on html
but we never truly understood the language
we communicated
a love that was not love at all

Featured image © Snapseed

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