Keyboard strokes sound like rain
This endless typing
It taxes me
Attempts for my fingertips
To sing out my whimsical narrative
The bend of my wrists ensuring me
That I am fabricating another cosmos
An ethereal creation where beauty…
Ah god this beauty!
It makes your eyes cloud with tears
And your heart fill with wonder
As you reach to touch the gossamer wings
Of the fairies that flit about
Your tiffany breaths
I pause to rest and am filled with remorse
To realize that to stop means this world
It dissipates quickly when my keystokes cease
I furiously begin to type again
Only to find the futility
Of attempting to bring into being
That which does not exist


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Dennis Cardiff
    Feb 05, 2014 @ 11:38:08

    Hi Toasha, I love the whimsy and fantasy in this. By writing we do bring into being that which at one time did not exist. We are continually creating our world.


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