There are love-sick words
found in the good envelopes
where I get the chance
to relieve my love drawn eyes.
To simply read your soft openings
in the words where you confess
just how much you love me and mine.
Anything that comes from
your love stained hands
I’m drawn to you and yours.
No other one has ever mattered,
all this much to me,
it’s just you, can’t you see
just as long as I’ve had your letters
they keep me coming here.
I hurry and rush
to quietly open a kissed envelope.
I can’t wait to be alone with
you and your private thoughts
your words have a way
of erasing the empty spaces
you fill my room with verses
and I swear I can smell you
a wisp of your eternal perfume.
The everlasting rush of excitement
my righteousness as I feel
I’m reading love-soaked words.
The common world fades,
life begins to disappears
behind a curtain of sorts.
Everyday for a year,
I’ve had your letters
filling my uneven cracks.
It’s only when
I get your letters
feelings come alive inside.
I honestly find myself
counting down the time
until the post is delivered
I suffocate from tightening thoughts
that moment I get to rip it open
that hand picked envelope
my name written in your style.
The color changes
I’m flush with anticipation
maybe this is what you meant
when you promised
I’d crave every word.
The undeniable truth
our year ends tomorrow and
I’m not ready to leave it all behind,
the perfume and excuses
I cherish the routine of you.
If tonight, I were to ask
if you’d reconsider
writing another solid year
would that be
too much to ask?
I kind of miss getting actual handwritten letters..thank You for the trip down memory lane
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