Gone Writing
By Juan Carlos Diaz
She walks into my study,
And notices that my face,
Doesn’t belong to me,
My eyes are of another,
World anxiously,
Waiting to be birthed,
And awakened onto,
This one,
She focuses her,
Attention on my fingers,
As they dance to the rhythm of,
Tap tap tap finger to keyboard,
As bricks and mortar,
Fall from the atmosphere,
Of my brain,
It is then that she asks in her,
Sweet girlfriend voice,
“Have you gone writing today, baby?”
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