Listing tomes scatter with a flare of pain.

I find a lack of lust enticing, but it is not to be.

Eyelids reddening in a way that almost forms a glowing nimbus, the perusal continues. Searching out and picking, cleaning, twisting and changing.

Click click click. Shift and hit. Cut and underline, cross and dot. Tap tap tap.

Abuse of power? Never. The line must be watched and mantained, but oh, the redundancies and twisted phrase...

What arouses so many emotions broken into letters. Characters into characters. Line upon line to be cleaned as dirty as it should be. As it must be.

Deadlines. They will live. All of the lines live, go live, and run out there. 

Already known is the steps, the gestures...going through the motions, it will fly.

And I will let it go.