Friday, February 20, 2015


For an entire month
before you were reunited
with my letter,

I was afraid to have said too much
and then
to have not said anything.

How do we come to mean something
for each other
walking home alone from this far?

How do I come to love
the sound of your feet coming and going
around the house?

How do I come to love
all of your
silliest sounds?

There is so much I didn't say in that letter.
There is so much I don't say
when I can think about the words

when there's no rush to press send,
when I'm haunted but not scared
by the thought of your absence.


  1. I especially like the first two stanzas.

  2. How we cram words into letters in the small hope that the recipient will read the intention on the words, because the words themselves are bound to fail. As always, you lay bare the heart of a hopelessly hopeful lover.

  3. I have that feeling that words came when they shouldn't and we're silent when there is lots to say.. Loneliness is asynchronousity

  4. The words...I don't have the words to describe the feeling I had when I read this.

  5. I think you've caught perfectly the sense of duality, conflict, difference, that I was hoping for in the prompt - the uncertainty of how words can seem so similar, and yet...

    thank you, as ever, for adding your presence, Kenia ~

  6. I really like the second stanza - the hesitation, yet the yearning - is keenly felt.