when i write….
….perhaps, to heal….
i love…. the texture, the touch,
the sensation,
that….
“feel”
the gentle “click, click, click” of the keys…
….the real deal is what i need.
yes,
that
energy
the intensity that amazing… ………….propensity ………….to measure……………..so tactile ………………that tickle of pressure
…..of pleasure
yes….
………..this ………..pleasure i treasure…………
the tender force
………..the power ………..the power
the pleasure……
………….of course
those……. keys…………
……………….please…….. delicately tingling…….
…………………….the tips beneath my fingers….
oh, yes….. oh, yes, yes, yes……….
……………….please……… the gentle “click, click, click” of those keys… the staccato
………vibrato
the tremolo
the tension
the………..drama
that………dimension ……………..beneath
……………..my fingers
between the letters, the commas
the colons
the quotes
the periods and parentheticals
………………the spaces
the shifts and……….
returns
the tickling
the touch ………….and
the texture……
my fingers
dancing
from key to key to key
………….yes
the texture, the strength…
the power of that…. pressure
that portato……………plying itself ever…. so………………. softly
then
fingers frolicking frenetically
……flagrantly………………
flaying frantically in a famously fabulous fortissimo of feeling
reeling
not careening
but……………… laboring, languidly……..
……………………………………..lovingly, lushly …..a passionate legato lavished so languorously so affectionately ……….upon those luxuriant ……….apple-designed
backlit, plastic…keys
oh, yes….. please…….
that………..feeling……………….
that gentle “click, click, click” of the keys…
oh, yes, yes, yes, please…….!
send me swiftly into that next staccatissimo
seriously…….
send me……..screaming
send me……..dreaming
yes!
(breathe)
yes!!
(breathe)
yes!!!
(breathe)
(waiting for my heart to stop racing)
yes.
when i write….
….perhaps, to heal….
i love….
the texture, the touch…..
…………………..the sensation………………………….
that gentle “click, click, click” of the keys…
as……………..
in those moments
i am
the
words i type
and not
the face i wear
nor the body
that
causes
me
pain
……..nor the memories
that bring me
shame
no!
my real voice…
is…. not damaged by the screaming of an esophagus purged of joy
no!
not at all
in those…. moments
my voice
my being
my life
my love
lives
…..yes….
“lives” within the pixels formed upon the keys of Apple®
born
of my fingers
as much as my thoughts
as much as my being
my seeing
my dreaming
….yes……………… my
being……………..
for in such moments of psycho-physical syncopation
i…….
……..am
quite simply…
a symphony…..
of pixels
a digital ballet
of all that i hope
of all that i pray
of all that i must spiritually scrub and scour away
and
away
away
away
…………….yes
empowered by the magic
the “feel”
“touched”
by the gentle “click, click, click” of the keys…
“YES!”
i have that right
i've earned that right
when i write
to
heal
to
be
me
when i write
….perhaps
to
heal
