What does it all meme?

Thanks for the picture—
someone else’s words.
Not yours,
just tapped, sent,
in half a second.

Why?

Because you liked it?
Because it meant something—
a flicker of truth,
a joke with teeth,
a quiet plea I was meant to hear?

Is this how you see me?
Or was it nothing—
a thumb grazing glass,
ghost-touch,
no pulse behind it?

What does it say—
this image with text,
pixel-perfect, ambient data,
crafted by a stranger 
who will never know us?

Once,
people spoke—
face to face,
or voice to voice,
or scratched their thoughts
into paper
meant for one pair of eyes.

Sometimes they sent pictures,
but only ones they took.
Of themselves.
Of something they saw
and wanted you to see.
A photo used to cry out
"See this world as I do."
Date written on the back
not time-stamped.

I wonder
if we’ve forgotten how
to mean something.
Meaning was in the mess;
don't filter it out.
Not for me at least.

Anyway—
I’ll send a meme back.
We can keep not meaning
anything together.