I’ve written many words,
Scribbles, there on a page.
Flat and black shapes against
White, or sometimes yellow.

Written so many words,
Without language, just forms.
I put my soul in them,
And yet, I can’t feel them.

All those so many words,
Fingers run across them,
Close my eyes, nothing there.
But read them, just read them!

Each careful choice of word,
Meaningless glyphs to some,
Have no feel to the touch.
But somehow they touch you.

I write all my heart’s words.
I don’t live in a page.
I don’t live in a screen.
But I can still touch you.

I’ve written every word,
To bring you close to me,
Sensation of my lips,
To kiss you with my words.