i write letters to you
sometimes
with the stars
do you see?

i write letters to you
in the winter
with the trees
bared of their leaves
brown-black
against the white sky
do you see?

i write letters to you
ink against my skin
a tattoo against the curve of my neck
do you see?

i write letters to you
in every poem
there is at least a line
that is meant
for only you
do you see?

i write letters to you
and keep them in crumbling
books
on dusty shelves
mixing
with someone else's words
do you see?

i write letters to you
in books bound
by synthetic leather
shoved in the second drawer
beneath my mirror
do you see?

i write letters to you
and i leave them
in their envelopes
to be mailed into the fire
do you see?

i want you to read all of these parts
of me
with ash
graying
your calloused fingers