Shared DNA

The screen is a window into a life

I wasn't invited to build.

She posted a photo of her bedroom wall—

a poster for that band with the screeching singer,

the one you used to play to drown out my mother.

The carpet looks soft in that grainy light.

The air probably smells like Tide and wood polish.

I’m sitting here in the dark

refreshing the feed

until my thumb goes numb.