The intense distraction of my febrile heart trapped me into love. Now two years after the addiction started and you wouldn’t satisfy my need you appear in my tinder feed like another face in a stream of shallow filters and poses and selfie smiles but the narrowing of my veins and the quickening of my pulse is a sign that the vulgar convulsions of emotion reserved for your coldness had never departed. I’m so lucky to feel unrequited, lest we fuck and i realise I wouldn't like it.