I wrote you a love letter.
But it burned before you could read it.
There, in the warmth of the sun
That was in your eyes
When you told me you loved me.
I wrote you a love letter.
But pieces were stolen in the wind
Which kicked up to blow down
The bridge of words we tried
To use to reach each other.
I wrote you a love letter.
But it froze and wouldn’t thaw.
It grew icicles as your shoulders – broad and strong
Refused to tolerate my fingertips.
It crystallized from the few words uttered
That still chill me to the bone.
I write you this love letter.
But the page is wet.
The ink dries and forms words I’ve never written.
I wrote you this love letter
And after all this time, I comfort myself.
Knowing at least these love letters still
Let me reach you, somehow
If only in my mind.
Long after you’ve gone
