We make love first because our time is limited.
When we are finished, we pick up again where our virtual connections left off. We talk about interesting things we have read or heard lately – but not about anything more personal.
We seem momentarily thoughtful and focused on each other, though there are messages from work, home and the rest of the world – possibly even other lovers – waiting for our reply.
We share a quick meal, made of food we brought. We eat and clean up, leaving things as we found them.
We walk to the parking lot together where we laugh a bit and flirt like we might meet again soon – except we don’t really know for certain. We drive away and the world returns to the way it was before.
Later, I wonder if everything in that space, including my smile, was borrowed and improvised or whether we were – just for a minute – truly ourselves.