An attempt to describe why I put off buying my new mac charger
for three months
I miss things
I have never owned.
Quill pens. typewriters. wax seals. you.
This whole mess
this web net tangle of me sitting
staring at your name knowing you
are sitting staring at -maybe- mine
it has gone too far.
it travels the world in seconds now.
faster than an eraser,
any delete button.
And it's too personal.
I make visible promises on public pages
like some modern bastard of a contract.
I want things to be out of hand and in mouth.
never again a dear john letter
never again a dear najva
your grandfather died and I
couldn't bring myself to call
that gets routed to my SPAM folder.
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