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.