The words jump off the screen
and into her.
Materialization.
Textual
cut and paste proof
of everything she wanted
since she walked into the room
and saw him there
and heard him play
and thought "my God,
if only..."
And now it's there
black letters going through her
drawing her in
and letting her know
how he feels
and how he's felt
and that it isn't just a dream.
But the words aren't spoken
and don't really need to be
the printed word
and the eyes do it all;
vocalization might be too much
vocalization might break her.
Sweet agony,
newfound love
for the English language.
Do it to me again
a kind of pain too sweet to ignore.
The absense of flesh on flesh
becomes a sweet deprivation
and each drink it in
knowing there can be nothing else.
And so the cherished words
are put on a screen
for none to hear
but them.

04/21/2003

Posted on 04/21/2003
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