Terms and conditions of affection.

Love has become a platform.

We don’t just fall into it anymore.

We launch it,

we debut it,

we document it.

It holds space not only between two people,

but between them

and everyone watching.

Intimacy has become interactive.

- - -

Love has become a platform.

- - -

Warm.

The tracing of fingertips down your spine

curving the shape of a heart.

The tingling of your senses

into a unspoken

"I love you"

Such gestures feel impersonal now.

Mechanical, public.

A curation of photographs

pinned neatly to a digital gallery wall

proves much the same.

Affection measured through lighting and angles.

Love is no longer something we feel.

It is something we present,

a coexistence under lense,

studied, consumed.

- - -

Cold.

- - -

Serendipitous.

Two halves unknowingly colliding,

a smile from the universe,

“finally”.

Now, we see love

before we experience it.

It scrolls past us in

f i l t e r e d f r a g m e n t s.

Anniversaries, proposals.

Desensitising us to the affinity

of their beginnings.

Moments of chance replaced

with superficial swipes.

Left,

right,

until someone fits

the architecture of an algorithm.

Love is no longer memorable.

It is selected, refined.

- - -

Intentional.

- - -

Quiet.

An unspoken promise,

reassured by a kiss on the cheek.

Unannounced,

unrequested,

but consistent,

every day.

This language now translates

through captions,

through comments,

through the affirmation of a thousand eyes

confirming it to be true.

External validation for inner sentience.

Love is no longer silent.

It is amplified, broadcast.

- - -

Loud.

- - -

Sweet.

An ice cream cone melting

between the perpetual gaze of devotion.

Admiration requiring nothing

but the nourishment of each other.

A taste now curdling under comparison.

Judged for presentation,

trimmed for aesthetic appeal.

A million versions of intimacy teaching us

how it should look,

never how it should feel.

Perfected, performative,

counterfeit connections.

Love is no longer savoured.

It is overexposed, over consumed,

- - -

Sour.

- - -

Human.

Perfumes unknowingly blended

into the memory of a night.

Mistakes forgiven by dedication

for the better.

Unbrushed hair,

yesterdays clothes,

unfiltered, real.

Imperfections are now edited into authenticity,

circulated by artificial approval.

Love no is no longer messy.

It is polished, sanitised.

- - -

Digitalised.

- - -

Love.

Love has become a stage.

Love has become a product.

Love has become a brand.

-

And we,

we are no longer connected.

We are marketers.

We are curators.

We are content.

-

Love has become a platform

and we have become its performers.