Tom Chattsworth
— a Free
Writing
I type
these words the best I can
While
wishing punctuation
And all
those other grammar
rules
Were taking
a vacation.
See,
chatting on the Internet
Is what
I like to do.
’Cause I
can be most anyone,
And so
of course can you.
I know I
have to trust you when
You say
you’re not a guy,
’Cause
you could be of either sex,
And so
of course could I.
But I am
going to bet my life
That you
are who you say.
See, I
refuse to picture you
In any
other way.
You will
not know how short I am,
How out
of style I dress,
And how you
look and what you wear,
Well, I
can only guess.
Or
dream—now that’s a better word
Than guess could ever be,
For I can
dream that you could love
A human
mystery.
A
mystery, that’s what I am
Here on
the Internet.
And who I
am and what I am
I’m able
to forget.
For all
the time I chat with you,
Those
hours every night,
Are
magic times. See, nothing’s wrong
When I
am out of sight.
You’re
right beside me in my room.
You’re
talking just to me.
Our words
make lovely photographs
That
only lovers see.
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