Typewriter
As his hands stroked me gently
Gliding across the cup of me
Barely touching my parts
As his mind raced away with his plot
His desire was just to use me
How was I to know
Maybe when he rolled in the clean paper, that should have been a clue
Today he would just type up a few notes
Hemmingway I love you but to you I was just another key
Written this 16th day of May, 2013
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Contest: The Typewriter
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2013
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