Handheld Devices Poem by Kewayne Wadley

I never just agreed to the complexity of modern technology.
This whole wait now
I just called to say hi.
I mean face it, we are wasting precious minutes
While the boogieman still sits in the deepest crevice of our minds.
The things that drive us wild.
Our fantasies.
The pajama pants left untied for a reason.
The warm hands that await comfort.
Damn the phonelines for not receiving that message.
That fucking voicemail recorded soon as the boogieman creeps in just as we close our eyes in wait.
Damn you for not picking up the phone in time.
For not committing the intrusion of the late night thought of you.
Bare feet, long shirt and velvet thong.
The sprinkle of perfume dotted beneath your bellybutton meant for me.
The gasp of your moans passionately fogging up the screen of your Galaxy note.
The custom text sent only with a picture beneath a pulsating background.
Give me one good reason we should continue to use these damn phones while they tempt us with what we already know.
When what we feel is more personal than some damn handheld device