Typing It Into Existence

“Think of me often.”

I type,

because I’m the type of girl with demanding fingertips,

who always slips in the ocean of her affections,

drowning but never disturbed by the sensation.

I’d like to watch you, in the waves,

the sun and all her many rays, so happy to see you,

that they shine all day long,

as I often do,

glowing and glistening all of a sudden,

when I think of the urgency with which you kiss me.

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