Typewriter | Tufts Observer
Poetry & Prose

Typewriter

We sat snug by the table with the hovering leg, 

Placed a hand to milky carbon copies,

Grasping each other’s breath with curved, inky incisions, 

We glided. 

Across the blank terrain, in the flat fibers, 

We constructed our palatial story. 

A story of kings and queens adorned in robes,  

Gold awnings and crystal chandeliers, 

Marble for tables and king crabs for snack. 

I sat with you in our palace until i lifted my hands.

The stucco was smeared, 

The table wobbly, 

Electricity off, 

And beans cold. 

I loved our embrace. 

We bled. 

We loved. 

And we sat.