The taste of the envelope lingered against my teeth
all morning: chemical, dry, slightly sweet.
My words were sticky, flavored with that glue.
I can’t recall what my letter told you, exactly,
just the way the black ink of certain consonants and
punctuation marks bled through the back of the paper,
proof of my hand’s varying pressure, of my lack
of complete control over each form of my voice.
Again? I am a Johnny-one-note here, but I can't help being amazed by your daily gems.
ReplyDelete"the way the black ink of certain consonants..."
and "proof...of my lack of complete control over each form of my voice..." Gorgeous.
I know you're inspired by the photo, but your writing is eons past it... Thank you for adding something good to my day.
Yes to everything Kirie said. I totally agree that you eclipse the pictures. The imagery of your words are so very evocative.
ReplyDeletethis was lovely and brilliant!
ReplyDelete