I carry an envelope
half full of emptiness
empty of hope
addressed to someone who
might understand
someone in Paraguay or
Nyasaland?

A second class stamp
because
I can't afford any more.

A swiss army knife for a wife,
sharp.

There is hope by the score,
expensive though
at the second hand store
I wait in vain
in pain
for someone to say
Je t'aime

(which means love in French I think, but
she can be Irish or anything
just something)
(ps it might mean something else in French, but it has a nice ring to the sound when I say it out loud so I hope it means love)

One day this envelope will flake away
before that day
my day
our day
will get in the way.