To hear keys clack again-
Not just into locks
or on a piano-
But the sweet tender-
Clickity clack-
Of words across-
My lap and not a mac-
To know that these are the words-
Not yet taken from me-
To feel-
And to breathe
In a time where I cannot
but be-
To hear the keys-
Is a different music to me-
That the world-
Does not see-
We all but listen-
And fear what we speak-
My days have been empty-
My mind hungry-
For the freight train-
That passes through me-
I am at home-
Without home-
And dread-
The unwinding lonely road-
That leads to nowhere-
But as long as I still have hope-
And she beats deep inside of me-
I know there isn't anything all the more yet-
Stopping me-
This is my heartbeat-
And it is all the means of free-
That is holding me-
-XIA
