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?