All she could do was touch him with her hand, her smile, her arms could circle his shoulder, but these were all so inadequate - how could she communicate the way the shape of his face burnt her heart? He was only on loan, she knew he would go, but looked on him with benign eyes, genuine affection. He never read her message burning there, the medium was wrong. He only knew modernity, the fast paced thing, her smile passed him by, was not on screen.next poem