Virtual Life

The elastic hymen of my speargun remains intact, the emerald water of Haida Guaii unafraid of my lust for fish.
A bent wheel waits for years as I cycle the path in my mind, the glass walls of my office keeping me warm.
My daughter is six and she doesn’t know how to ride, I have tried twice this year to teach her.
C’est la vie, c’est la vie virtuel.

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