nico looks beautiful
even through
a tinted screen.

his smile shone brighter than mine ever could.

his hair was a mess yet
perfect, and he looked
tired yet perfect, and his
eyes were glossy like the
atlantic,
so, so perfect.
his cheeks were
frostbitten, as if he
decided he really was winter,
how perfect.

so we greeted each other and
happy tears were shed.
but it was all through a
tinted screen
with a blue border.

it's been about seven
hours since I last
called this dream boy
on my cell phone.

he looks just as perfect
as he sounds.
which is funny, considering
his life is not-so
perfect.

"I miss you," he admits,
and I choke out a "same."
and then we exchange
I-love-yous, and we
talk all night about our
favorite bands and
the new cafe down my street
and, if he should get
an industrial piercing
and talking about our
friends, and really
everything as if we were
face-to-face instead of
electronic-to-electronic,
and I remind him that
these electronics are our
history and my voice
is not changed and my
picture is not edited and
I'm as real as it gets for now.

and then I remind him to
just hold on a little bit
longer. he needs to.