My eyes marvel at the words written on you,
captivated by their lovely décor:
fancy parchment paper, scraps of lined paper, post-it notes, and white napkins.
Style suits you:
words in black and blue ink—italicized, cursive, print, CAPITALIZED, lowercase.
All letters begin with
Dear,
You carry love, language
seeped in a warm cup of chamomile tea,
words breathing-in each other’s air.
Yours forever,
(Lovers)
You float on a dove bearing news
without the formality of newspapers,
utterly endearing.
Don’t forget to call and love you loads,
(Close family)
You rise even when stained
with the mud
of heartaches,
vines of poison ivy,
words that look harmless at first,
contaminated at once.
I’m not sorry I stomped on your heart,
(Quick to-be strangers)
You hold dripping gossip
thick with a sickening passion.
He thinks we don’t know about his string of affairs,
(Nosy friends)
Letters ending with
Love,
You carry the thoughts of others,
yet you do not
sink under their weight.
You fit perfectly in my hands