There’s the distinct clacking of the keys
as Hareem screams out at Saad
though all in my mind.
I’m writing, but I am her
at that moment.
Red faced, angry, unable to explain
her stance, her reasons,
her many emotions that border on love,
because there’s no air
if he isn’t there. But how is he to know.
I am her, so this
is my life. And he is you
and I’m screaming and shouting,
fingers balled into fists,
eyes shining with a million
wants and needs; wet diamonds
hardened, sharpened, pointed
aimed at you, aimed at him.
The music is gone,
there’s just the clickety-clack of my long
fingernails hitting the keyboard
am no longer her.
(Yes, I was writing a pretty intense scene featuring my two lead characters. Then this happened.)