I often scroll through my gallery,
comprising over twenty pictures
of your fingers on my typewriter.
Different angles, different lights,
different keys pressed each time.
I stop at that photograph where
the fingers rest on the keys that
convey what any lover would die
to listen. No <3 nor E V Y U I L O
not even E A R Y M. Left to right,
it reads: E F H I O M L & I sense,
it says: I feel home.
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