I wrote you three
letters last night
Folded them neat, sealed 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 and ink stained wind
You may not see but it's all there
My loving lines, my quiet
care
Some
words are better off written slowly
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