Not a Touch Typist

we move our fingers when we creep in shadows

without realizing we hit key strokes

sometimes we sit comfortably on space bars

and long pauses are born in exponential succession

without us meaning to

before the next syllable slicks its way sidewards

finger tiptoe-ing even when the caps lock is on

all this careful crawling becomes a silent scandal

of symbols above the number line

appearing with the simple press of the shift key

words are magnified by ampersands and pound signs

and asterisks, compounded by exclamation points

that bleed carbon fingerprints for every

single misstep or touch

the dark hardly hides anything from what we know

of where we've been skimming

and the things we say even without opening our mouths

we click our tongues to hide the sound of our backspacing

4:49 PM

Aug. 5, 2013