Silhouette
Rain tapping, oh so gently, upon the window pane,
A small hub of light amidst the dark of night,
A dimly lit computer desk, holding up the screen,
An orange hue flashing, oh so discreetly, upon the window's name,
Words cheapened by abundancy,
Supply, and demand,
The night still in its infancy,
And words still in excess,
From a sullen frame against a quicksand chair,
The keys await reply,
Lethargic hands that are almost there,
A silhouette,
Against a blue screen sky.
