A Heartfelt DM To You

I press my love into a screen, Soft keystrokes shaping what I mean. No ink, no breath, no trembling hands— Just words adrift in silent lands. The message waits, a restless ghost, Half-formed confessions held too close. I send, then watch the minutes fade, A heart suspended, pixel-made. Do you feel it through the glass? The warmth, the ache, the hope that asks— Can love still bloom in neon light, In fiber-optic veins at night? No paper touched by trembling hands, No letters sealed with love’s demands. Just this—one fragile, pulsing line, A whispered thought: You still are mine.