Another Clockwork Day

For the second time this week, he plugs in the external drive
He clicks through his archive to find a folder he needs
He knows this path well

He was bored with himself
Tired of routine
Free live cams left him limp
The sounds of commerce, a complete turn-off
And the films these days
With their surgery scars and bad tats
And it's all stepmoms and stepsisters now
What the fuck's all that about?

So there's another clockwork day
Of worn-out love and waning clay
The last awake, a door shut time
So ends another clockwork night

No, he needed something real
And now he knows where to find it

IMG4329, the flushed flesh of new love in summer
The couples drawn, the sun secluded and a gift that fits
IMG4378, fastening the strap of a sharpened shoe on a hotel table
The puckish promise of a bended knee
IMG4398, a borrowed hoodie and a bruised thigh
The absent eyes of afternoon afterglow and the suspense of more to come

IMG4457, wearing nothing but a new postcode
Statuesque on bedspread plinth and reddened room
As family smiles from fresh IKEA frames
IMG4564, the sleeping venus in a half-painted kitchen
As hopeful spermatozoa race to an ovum's open arms
IMG4382, an internet closeup of a solitary act
Sent like a love letter long, long ago

Secretly sated once again
He softly ascends to the bedroom
And slept gently undercovers
To join a snoring spouse
In the almost dark she's hardly aged a day
When he removes his glasses
She looks just the same she does in the pixels of those old jpegs
Those low res memories, buried in folders within folders