Times Roman Black 12

You are a glowing white screen,

Seemingly two dimensional and flat.

Only your letters are different.

Forming unique combinations unearthing

Your feelings.

Your intensity.

Your humor.

You doctor your persona with bold, italics, colors.

Glimpses of you peek through in word choice, cadence, 

Sometimes explicatives.

But when I look at you for too long, 

My eyes burn.

So I step away

Trying to imagine you in 3-D...

Reading in the park,

Standing on a street corner,

Talking on the telephone,

Smiling.

You become more real then.

But to "see" you, 

I have no choice but to sit here, gaze at this screen, 

And wait for it to be filled

By all of you…

Bold Veranda 14,

Baby Blue Cambria,

Italic Arial 13.

And 

Times Roman Black 12. 

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This week’s 33-333 Trifecta word prompt is:

DOCTOR

3. a: material added (as to food) to produce a desired effect

    b: a blade (as of metal) for spreading a coating or scraping a surface