I like the way a pen looks on paper,
but it’s far too slow to keep up with the words that I think.
It’s kind of like the way I like to walk around a bookshop,
even though I hardly ever stop to read.
I’m much too busy absorbing the beauty of the way the stacks look all lined up.
Maybe that’s why I pick things out of convenience,
like typing on a computer.
Maybe that’s why I like things that are pretty on the outside,
Except when you find out that they don’t have the same quality
as a word that’s been written in black ink.