I’m writing this for you Annie,
and I’m writing it with bipolar keys
in rapid speed.
They remain stale in the air. Impatiently waiting
in the glow of the low-lit-monitor. Their purpose
undefined without action.
It’s only for a moment they feel weightless,
harvesting energy - exploding upwards.
Their screams of ecstasy muffled by the resonance
of my key-connecting-finger-snaps.
Keys in rapid speed.
Sep 1, 2011
Sep 1, 2011 at 7:50 AM UTC
I’m writing this for you Annie,
and I’m writing it with bipolar keys
in rapid speed.
They remain stale in the air. Impatiently waiting
in the glow of the low-lit-monitor. Their purpose
undefined without action.
It’s only for a moment they feel weightless,
harvesting energy - exploding upwards.
Their screams of ecstasy muffled by the resonance
of my key-connecting-finger-snaps.
Keys in rapid speed.
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