addressed
i did not think
you would let me
in, that it was
to stop by; so i
wrote you this letter
cream
envelope with an
bittersweet seal.
there is not much.
addressed to you
who did not want
apologies like roots
grow deeper than
could sink, deeper into
more than this cream-
not enough. but see,
i give you
and scissor stars
slipped under your door
in a bittersweet
envelope.
3 comments:
A good poem never gets old, just better. Like wine. Unless the wine is over three years old and it tastes really, really nasty. So in this analogy a good poem trumps wine (though I've never had a taste for the stuff anyway...except when I was underage and drinking it was counted as daring).
Kat!!! I'm trying to understand why you never told me you had a blog. I'm assuming it is because in your secret life in the CIA you have to be careful about your internet trail, but I've been onto you all along. Never fear.
i miss you. more than you know.
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