Immy

He doesn't come till the evening
despite long hours of seeking him out
closing doors to meet him
if only for a minute
before he runs off again
never touching down for more than a hello
but at night he's all mine

I click,
I swipe,
I like,
I save,
I feel my thoughts being herded,
rounded up and shuttled into a pen,
but I don't mind.
I join my fellow sheep,
blindly scrolling through brainless information.
101110001000110...

Eunoia,
she passes by me,
her mind overflowing with beauty,
her thoughts an endlessly expanding painting,
one only she will ever get to see.
Kilig,
I see her and the butterflies start once again,