It's been years since I heard your voice, your true voice,
resonating through your delicate bones,
and breaking apart in the unworthy air.
Instead, through some miracle of the modern age,
I am given electronic reinterpretations
and dot-matrix portraits, in the style of Life.
It's not that I'm ungrateful for our conveniences--
I love the glow of your digital ghost--
but I do miss that third dimension,
(and those other three senses).
