I wrote you three letters last night
Fold them neat,
seal them tight
They sit in a drawer beside my bed
Unread pages of things unsaid
Pen on paper feels more true
Than a thousand texts I sent
to you
Letters unsent,
but all in ink Every pause,
every time I think
I write you like you're here again In cursive hopes,
an ink stained wind
You may not see,
but it's all there
My love in line,
my quiet care
Some
words are better off written slowly
In cursive hopes,
an ink stained wind You may not see,
but it's all there
My love in line,
my quiet care
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