UNTOUCHED KEYS

I sometimes hold my breath
between my ask and your reply.

You divide us. Cut us with your silence, your white noise.
I know that it annoys when the black keys aren’t employed.

I know the invention of a feeling, of watching paint peeling,
waiting for you to emote a feeling.

I know the feeling of being led by a string of carrots.
I know what it means to be teased.

I also know the means of a release.
I’ll just have to type you out of my bloodstream.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s