I’m horrible with typos. My roommate has dyslexia, she is worse. We are the worst roommate copy editors ever. We cannot spot each others’ typos for the life of us.
And for that life of us I volunteer we die. Death by typos. So please…
Somebody dig us a grave of our misplaced spaces, and pile on top of us the one letter offs on our keyboards. Disintegrate us with the dis-integrity of homophones and homonyms until we___our eyes are gouged out from the lack of aye in our lives. And as the ‘AHA’ moment passes let our tongues be stuck inside our moths for mouths, and naval where our nasals should be. So we breathe in wings and sails that were meant for flying and boating, but instead keep us tethered to the six fought shadow of a gave