Why I Write Letters


Allow me to put this pen to paper
and consider you as more than a passing thought
That my sinew and muscles and bones will create this new life
which your eyes will give breath to
and your mind longevity
How lucky can one be to soak it all in
to consider with pursed lips and furrowed brow
the emotions behind the secret self
in tiny existences not yet seen
Open your drawers to me as I to you
Proclaim in silence what cannot be uttered aloud
I will try to hear it above my heart
To cover all wouldst be as trees upon mountains
the closer the peak, the fewer the words
Frozen tundra halting actual and forcing the nonexistence to be
as absence begets the strongest form of presence
between the words and lines
As I strive toward the summit
may you never cease climbing



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