the clueless cursor

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

The blinking cursor taunts
As i sigh in question-
‘How can I make the page
Feel him
The way I do?’
What play on words
could make its heart skip a beat
Whenever he stares at me fondly
With a loud sigh
And contented smile
In the rooms, the woods,
Where we’ve become familiar.
What worship of metaphors
Could make it smile
In a grin that can’t be wiped off
Whenever i hear the passionate words
Of his thoughts, his beliefs,
And have it soak in the dimple
of his innocent questions
And playful perspective.
How do i make it’s breath hitch
When his finger trails down my back
as a warm kiss plants on my neck.
I can merely tell it
All the life that’s happened
Under the knowing stars
That taunt our fate
With its hopeful gaze
But it won't get to feel
The breathy chill
of young lust
As my fingers trail shapes and patterns
That twirl with the souls
That so fondly hold each other
While our chilled breaths rise in the midnight air
In hammocks, in beds,
And awe-full smiles
Sunk deep in disbelief
As they lay rest
On his lips,
On mine.
And still i ask,
‘How can i make the page
Feel him
The way i do?’