Non-Erotic PoetryReflections On A TypoWell,
now I know,
that to love
you must live
as if one or the other
is nothing but a slip
from typing too fast
on neighbouring keys.
Maybe just stumbling,
a motoric mishap
form an occupied mind,
so hellbent to love,
(or was it to live)?
Whichever distraction
disturbing enough
to slip on the keys
I now know
well.
I love you.
I live you.
No difference.
Both I do.
Share the love
Report a Bug
1 Pages:1
Please Rate This Submission:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- Recent
Comments - Add a
Comment - Send
Feedback Send private anonymous feedback to the author (click here to post a public comment instead).
English
There are no recent comments (6 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (6)