Character Spaces
Oh you do not see, dear friend,
That I am confused as well.
You do not understand.
The rage comes, like projectile vomit, from your keyboard.
Carried along wire and RF signals,
Right to my inbox.
I open your message and I begin to read.
The bile stops me.
My stomach turns.
I push away from the desk,
Putting space, air, light,
Between your needs and mine.
When I return, I examine my options.
Compose, Reply, Spam, Forward,
There it is…
Delete.
We’ll start again another day,
My angry,
Precious friend.
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