So, at this point, I’m basically just a Bella, waiting for her Edward (eighteen days! What!) (if Joe ever finds out he’s just been compared to a Twilight character, I am dead meat. Or perhaps, if that comparison holds, I am living dead meat). So, in true angsty teen spirit, and with the weight of my English degree behind me and also with helpful cues from Wikipedia (“The Petrarchan sonnet [also Petrarchanism or Petrarchian] is a verse form that typically refers to a concept of unattainable love”), I present a poem about love 2.0:
I sing a song of love downloaded,
Of my better half, halved, delimbed;
His backlit visage ne’er by these buttons dimmed;
His flattened, framed form by pixels corroded.
This song is of webcams, by an engineer coded;
His arms from which our love once stemmed
Now reduced a dimension, they send his love IMs,
And instead of him, mine hold a laptop unfolded.
I sing a song of love across miles,
Across oceans and countries, and exotic routes;
Too far for touch, near enough for talking.
This love is stretched on air and wires,
Enriched and reduced by Google’s pursuits,
Kept alive by heart and by Facebook stalking.