do you remember when it was all just for you?

the first lines that came
and went to leaden rubber
blown away like leaves
on a winter breeze?

and the inks that followed
in their black certainty
drawing a map to colour
and completion

that neither cramp
nor blisters could deny?

now the cursor comes
and goes like rain
into a puddle

its steady pace
a slow handclap
of light

on the virgin page
that stretches
on forever

just daring me to put
words in your ear