📑.. We fell in love through screens, through satellites that carried our words across the aching void. Night after night, we spoke about hands on bodies and lips on skin. After the silence, I would think of all the girls made of flesh and bone within your arm's reach. As winter gave way to summer, the dust motes dancing in the sunlight blurred into pixels, and I gave my heart to a photograph. I wondered how I could be so afraid of losing something that wasn't mine. Then came the crossed wires, the signal jam. The static that grew between us-its dull, murmuring protest. And I would question if there were others just like me, who had found themselves caught in your orbit. Whether I was just another celestial body, sent up: from the ground; when the moon-the original satellite-is the only one you see from where you're standing.