When I receive a text,
From you,
Reading and rereading your pretty words.
Grinning at your spelling mistakes
And the random, irregular punctuation
You are irregular
And I hope our life will flow together
Without a misplaced comma
Or a premature full stop.
But I am not sure.
I do not have the same capacity
To throw in a shower of punctuation
And just go with what I feel to be
The right way to spell a word.
Maybe I am over thinking it all.
It is just that I have never met your likeness
And I worry that,
If I leave here a line without decisive punctuation,
Will it just trail on?
Or will it end,
By the hand of another,
Penciling in a few dashes and dots?
