The Copy Machine And I Poem by Lonnie Hicks

I have a copy machine romance
where the machine's heat
contributes
to my losing my senses.

Our arrivals
are timed
each day to maximize
and synchronize
to intensify
the chance encounter
we both seek.

'How are you' is
the morning entree;
the sounds of the staple and sort routine
and just a brush of finger tip
warmed by the sweeping green glow
as you help
position
the paper guide
and insert
a new ream
in the paper tray;
bending we both
and now standing
while we wait
for copying
one-sided
double-sided and both.

In the humming silence
the machine
spools
guides
separates
and we
have yet another
small
'just getting to know you'
situation
which
may
lead
who
knows
what.

And it did.