I tend the mobile now
like an injured bird

We text, text, text
our significant words.

I re-read your first,
your second, your third,

Look for your small xx,
feeling absurd.

The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord.

I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred.

Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard. 

DUFFY, C. Disponível em: www.independent.co.uk. Acesso em: 27 out. 2021

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