Poetry

for fear of being misunderstood

blinking cursor beating to the rhythm of racing hearts
the dance begins all over the keyboard
fingers plopping down on keys
like juicy raindrops splattering on asphalt.

thirty paces forward then back- tap!, tap!, tap!
some other word to fill the space
thoughts are materialized, immortalized, then vaporized
with the command of an index finger and key.

seven lines in and the breathing begins
reiterations turn into incantations
as the lips whisper the words in hurried pace
progression, possession, obsession.

closed lids and I hit “send.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.