I swear I meant all the words
that I said when we were lying
in bed together that night
and in the car every time
I drove you home, way too late
because neither of us wanted to part
Sometimes I catch myself
laughing at some inside joke
of which I am now outside,
turning to find you
gone, only air in your place
because none could ever take it
I held onto hope for the
longest time, thinking you
would get tired of the city life,
run back to my arms
I never knew when you might
come, so I kept them open
But this morning, I went
out to my mailbox to find
in it twelve letters
from me to you,
resealed,
"R.T.S." written on each.