Exhibit B
You are freaking me out.
You are.
Your eye wanders through these vowels
in search
of an answer to
a question
I never
imagined.
Four
dictionaries
colonize
my desk
next to a stack of
unread letters,
dusty old books
and forgotten poems.
A dated map
on my right wall
covers
sepia pictures of
another
life.
I wiggle my toes
and like you, become
a voyeur:
my fingers have begun
to have an affair
with my keyboard,
my eyes fixated
upon the screen;
unbeknownst senses
prioritize
my thirsts.
Timely and tragically,
from the right hand corner
of my screen,
running digits puncture my pupil,
and I let go
of this rapture.
You still
want
answers?
I have to run once again.
