Again, again.

The clicking keys crash
into plastic pecks dotting
each keystroke decision.
Am I writing again?
I must be.
Don't hush me.
Let these fingers frisson
across whatever manifesto
they happen across.
Let them burn the albatross
from the sky and fling love
letters between the thighs
of every panting maiden.
Hands, surprise me.
Brain, infatuate me.
Let's send this empty space
into space and reflect
on the journey. Let's fly,
soar, and score in whatever
arenas we invent. There will be time
for form later. Let's just write now.