MOTION WITHOUT SOUND (1st draft)

I type
and I stare
sigh
and I backspace
oh good god, oh god, delete
delete delete delete.
Humming hollow
through the pages
of my far too often on holiday brain
is something complete,
rich in texture
heavy with substance
and warm in embrace.
but, where is it really?
my fingers ache often
trace the shape of letters in the air
hoping that just once a black & white word
would hang there
sweetly crisp,
like contrail in the sky...
a wisp of a clue.
my lips form words
my mouth a study of motion
yet without a sound.