Prose as Poetry

If I didn’t have hands, then what would I do? I’d have no way to profess my love for you, except between these lines of poetic prose, which I would have to speak. My words would become verbose showers, raining down and around your very being. Expressions of love would become lyrical lingos, all because I didn’t have hands. If I didn’t have hands, then what would I do? Oral language would be even more essential. No more love notes throughout the day. Instead, I would await your arrival each evening. And then, precisely at five twenty nine, I would provide an outpour of poetics proving my heart’s desires. You would have to listen intently to the sound of my voice because I wouldn’t have hands. But luckily I do have hands my love. Hands to devote each keystroke towards promoting our love’s devotion. Hands to caress your soul with written sentiments. Hands to press each letter forming just the right words. If I didn’t have hands, then what would I do? How would you know I cared?

© 2015 kegarland

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