Close your eyes.
Do you hear it?
The soft ticking in the background;
The sound of ink being punched onto parchment.

When you blow out your candles,
close your eyes,
and listen as the paper is reset.
Life is like a typewriter,
equipped with limited paper and red, Red ink ribbon.

Every action:
word, breath, kiss,
is stamped onto parchment.
Some people try to white it out,
forget it ever happened.
But turn the page over,
place it in front of the flame
and the red ink will be there,
a constant reminder.
Read what you’ve written,
be astonished by words,
and ashamed of phrases.
But accept the idea that it is the past, and cannot be undone.

Nothing is planned, for the parchment ahead is blank,
but this is not always a bad thing:
A blank page is like an open trail.
You’re free from restrictions and guidelines.

Will you sit with me,
close your eyes,
and listen for our typewriters?
One day,
when I re-read my story,
I hope you will always be in there,
somewhere close.