Step Away from the Monitor

Forlornly pushing papers by day.
Tenderly pushing pixels by night.
Yet the one is drudgery,
The other sheer delight.

New paper whispers in the light,
a promise of things to come.
Aged paper crackles delicately,
A nod to our transience.

Does a pixel rustle in your grasp,
Flow through your hands,
Brush your fingertips
Like frozen silk?

Just a stunning pagent of boxes
Dressed in Red, Green, Blue
With promised kisses
Never delivered.

You see the flower.
I experienced it.