My heart was like a mail box.
Waiting for one piece of mail in particular.
A special letter hand delivered.
The promise of sealed flap, carefully stamped addressed perfectly.
Scented in heavy anticipation.
There I stood in different variation of weather.
Going from hot to cold, the thought alone keeping me warm, closed in.
Suppressing everything that I held in.
The flutter of ads, bills, and different envelopes addressed to other P.O boxes helped build this anticipation.
Waiting for the moment I could open my mouth and accept you for everything you are.
Pouring your heart out in full stationary fashion.
Without hands to satisfy such anticipation.
To open such a flap and grant myself the gift of you kind of puts us in awkward disposition.
But the urgency of it all is as clear as day