i could type at this machine
all night.
grow old
as each sun rises and falls
out my window.
just bring me
a sandwich once in a while,
coffee.
every now and then
come to see if i'm okay.
come close and put your
hand on my shoulders.
lean down
to kiss me and tell me
that you love me,
then let me go at it.
key after key struck because
that's what i do,
what i need.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment