A Poem
Jul 28, 2017 · 1 min read
When Love is Pixelated
by Ed Spicer
When love is pixelated and
friendships are measured in exact letter count
we sip the cup of blood red wine
and chew the bread filled with glutens
and weep
like Jesus — risen like bread —
and pray for an end…
body decomposing and morphing
back into the pixels forming it
and maybe when just a wisp of body
remains, just a thought,
we will remember our friendship —
holding hands and hugging
laughing and weeping together —
and love will return
reminding us of our character.


