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After being admonished for typing
I know you knew what I was doing would never do— the way my fingers click black keys to confess my unrequited desire to make you listen to what you did not yet know you needed to comprehend— as if anyone had any choice other than to fall within my thrall—for as a hand rubbing a lamp provokes a genie from her sleep my fingers whisper scattered alphabets to words—knit words to sentences— sentences into a voice inside your head— despite authority’s stricture to be silent in the car I inhabit
here and now with you— with these business men— observers of other rules— on their way to pillage what they can from creatures almost as beautiful as you—