Two grids
(I want third and fourth and fifth grids, I imagine them under the ground in the upside down on the other planes)

The not quite perfect unison
Is she in it is she not in it
Characters, I know them
Casual kiss, breaching and electric
Dancing as avatars, soft repetitive wavy nothings
Open tapping hands, like praying but gimme gimme, like consuming but like begging
Splitting timelines
The clean line arabesque selfie
The clean line waiting
The accidental soundtrack of children screaming
Stuck between grids, slow between planes
The jarring feeling of – there’s only one
Beg and you shall receive: suitcases and bags and basketballs and flowers and babies and coolers and fans and guitars
Some stuff points to other stuff the stuff of the outside the stuff of the screens
Desperation of looking for lost self (I don’t see you!!!!!!)

Sanctity of selfie (therapy)
Sanctity of group pic (church)

Bodies on ground splayed and abnormal but normal
A natural response to the exhaustion of being a person, being a person in New York City, being a visitor in New York City, the no where to sit-ness, the no where for suitcases-ness, the no bathroom-ness
The accidental soundtrack of dancing queen

Sanctity of party song (unity)

Countdown countwho countwhat countwhen
Kissing yourself kissing your alternate reality kissing the fake kissing the fact of the fiction embracing the fact of the fiction accepting the fact of the fiction indulging the fact of the fiction romancing the spectacle making real the spectacle realizing the unreal reading the mirror reaching down into the depths of the simulation to kiss again