Three days behind the desk flirting with technology. She’s a fickle one. Inviting you in with shiny lights and entertainment. Blink and it’s three am. Time slips by.
Three days since fresh air.
On the periphery I crave paper.
Ink on page.
An old fashioned book.
Feel it’s weight. It’s immortality. Wireless. Free.
Paper becomes the mistress.
Secretly stashing away seconds to escape into printed words. Which seem to better capture human nature.
Forlorn, technology does not feel abandoned. Empty casing. It cannot reciprocate the devotion which you pay it.
Rolling cigarettes. Take a puff. Indulge in the moments away. Away.
Paper days unwind me. Stroke and satisfy me.
Simple textures soothes and assures. Rewind. Return to these past pleasures.
© This work is subject to copyright (15.05.2020)
All rights are that arise from this work are reserved for, and are the property of the author JC Delport