Dark Screens
 
On the unlit screen
I see the marks
I've made: faint and bold
fingerprints, smears
like blades of grass
or broken and bitty,
firm and straight,
two start together
and move away:

physical tracks
of my varying interest
and of decisions,
tentative, firm,
made or almost made.

But thankfully
they're without their terrain
will soon be erased,
and the online stores,
police and state
are no further, yet,
inside my brain.

Tristan Moss

If you have any comments on this poem,  Tristan Moss   would be pleased to hear from you.