Tickled Text


I can’t even wrap

my head around this.

You stare back at me,

teasing me to touch you,

push your buttons, massage

a message or sentence out of the pores

of this screen just so I can frown, highlight, delete.

Stop flashing your cursor at me.

Each pending line is vertically winking at me

like I’m supposed to be ready to pounce.

Instead, I’ll push the screen down

and listen to your undercarriage

hum. Hum. Hum. Moan.

“Please open me, speak to me!”

But by being speechless,

I have given you everything.

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