I’ve stayed away from you too long, fingers
lost in air’s loneliness, reflexing like
eyelids in dream to words’ rhythmic linger,
phrases firing through nerves, longing to strike
each key with gentle force of needle through
cloth, scarred tips missing your smooth surfaces
lying beneath me, giving way now to
my slightest touch, patient as nuns’ faces
when I pause, awaiting delicate plunge
with each bold letter I press and impress
onto virtual paper. Shall we lunge
as one like minuscule lovers, both blessed
by the Muse’s flaming eyes urging our
shivering forms to honor her power?
Roger Armbrust
March 1, 2010
