She dances across my mind’s screen like a

 jerky animation running at fifteen

frames a second, all the right curves and

 creases in all the right places taunting

me like a 2D picture rotating

 in 3 Space the lighting and the shadows

capturing my attention as surely

 and as securely as a pretty woman’s

RL smile – but I sit and rot away

each day in cyberspace, chasing the ghosts

 of promises from electronic harlots

flashing their all on a stage in Amsterdam

 blowing a deeper hole in my ‘Big Pond’

deficit even as I flog myself

 to sleep and dream electronic fantasies

woven around conversations with

 some other-sex webfriends – Real Audio,

Streaming Video – continuous replay

 until exhausted, unconscious, spent. 

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