Those letters…letters to my love…letters to my soul…I write
them each night…waken from half baked sleep…with doped eyes…under the dim red
zero…my pen running away from those questions I wish to ask and fingers aching
for the answers I wish to confess…the night never dries the ink…dark…dark blue
ink that tastes like her sweat…days always hung loosely on her wax shape…I
curse them to drop down…she had started with the letters…wrote them…rolled
them…then whispered those written words in my ears…I wonder how my beloved
writes now…six feet under!...I write…did I?...or did I tear them off?...these
letters…I tear them off…my sleep…let me sleep…letters can wait…let me sleep!
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