Lost in Translation

by Julie Sumner

Onscreen you are perfected in pixels:

laugh lines and blue-green eyes strikingly clear, still

there’s an absence to your flattened presence;

the space around your face is empty of the scent

of sandalwood aftershave, gone too is the feel

of your back, warm as earth in the summer sun,

and your spirit remains untranslatable

except in the language of flesh and bone.

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