In this
world of progress
I miss
the personal simpleness
of hand-written letters.
The physical connection
of unfolding and holding
the very paper
another mulled over
and touched.
I miss
the discret indentation
left by a weighted pen
as if to add subconscious emphasis
to inked words in a message
of which
I was worth the efford.
And some held
the sender's scent
by design
or accident.
Honest words
written and meant
from one to me.
An intimate thing,
a relic of time
folded and stored,
hidden away safely
those
cherrished memories.
Sealed
With
A
Loving
Kiss