Howard Firkin
It knows the words it thinks I should have sent.
I know the letter/number combination
that should unlock our fitful conversation:
it’s never close to what I thought I meant.
Technology has left me dumb, thumb-tied.
So read the words I never send: I ache
for you, who’s reading something else, the one
who smiles at things I haven’t done,
remembering the calls I didn’t make,
the sweet, romantic gestures never tried.

You know my words. You know the things I say.
You know my moves. You know the things I do.
I’m more predictable than yesterday.
I still can’t find the words to say to you.