Romance is dead.  
it's throat laid open
love cascading down
murdered by progress  
by the reduced
synaptic
span
on
constant
scroll  

lips licking for the next
hit of one-click
copulation

choking on the slightest
glimmer of
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
waiting,
of elegant persistence and the  
reward of enamored pursuit  
IRL.  

the beautiful cat and mouse of our ancestry  
that wove such wonderful tales  
into the bark of our trees,  
replaced by all the clever wit  
and subtle nuance of  
peak cringe riz

swipe right  
“send nudes”  
“DTF”