Grammar; Life

I am afraid to type my story, knowing
the computer will capitalize all my letters
even when I long to be lowercase,
a small black mark so insignificant
that you won’t see me as I come

wandering vaguely into the room
like a comma at the end of a sentence
that someone else began

I said and the quotation marks fell away
like raindrops down my cheeks
the silence digested the word slowly
chewing thoughtfully on the h, crunching on the dotted i

You in the italic bold cursive font beside the window
with the evening sun falling into your eyes
dancing, (and so many things scribbled in parentheses
that I don’t understand) and
me, written in 12 pt. times new roman
two feet planted firmly on the floor
I left quietly; you missed the note I
left accidentally in the thick air*
* I am a dreamer too.

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