to fully grasp your smile
to hold your hand or grab your ***
or open a door for you with words printed only

I only type letters arranged to make shorter
the distance between two blooms reaching
for heaven

I cannot from here hear your breath,
nor lay my ear upon your papers
your message comes

full of promises of spring the rebirth of hope
it is in my head , the high notes
the lovebirds whispers

from here , i here typing
the shy tapping of the red headed woodpecker
or perhaps a thrush

busy putting small pieces of paper
with words wrote
tapping into a nest

where future is the tenderness
of reality making
the best of words

actually touching, with eyes
heart tips fingers
touching skin or feather

not a keyboard