Spilled Ink from the Vault

Sure

By

Alethea Cavanaugh 

I type
Yes, Sir
and manage to stop my pinky
from hitting ENTER.
I may have a terrible track record
with social cues, but even I know
where this path leads. 
What I don’t know
is how to talk to you
without telling you 
I love you still,
without telling you
my skin 
misses the fire
of a touch it has never felt.
delete, delete, delete
delete, delete
delete, delete, delete
S-U-R-E, ENTER