Realize, power
that you hold
folded as a love letter,
to be light sent
ardor
tongue tripped
along the wet
seal,
air mailed,
perfumed.

No paper cuts
to splice along
seams of soft lips.

We had only dreams
hoarded by
crazed postal workers,
who delivered
the daily diamond
incoming
outgoing
bill collectors
and
perfect posts
stamped overdue.

Mail bones litter
lost tossed ground
with the junk mail,
things we
don't want to hear.

Maybe
someone will pick
me up
thinking
"what a pretty envelope"
take me home
and use me
as love letters
to someone dear.

Fill me,
with hopeful words;
like I love you.

I would like that.