Love Letters

Yesterday's worn out pages yellowed edges I jealously guarded and fondly folded for the upteenth time in envelopes neatly stacked in a paper box. Every word I memorized solemnly read yet pretended they did not come from you. Artifacts of a practice done long lost brought by one whose job now simplified rendered almost obsolete. Of dreams unrequited of secrets tonight they turned to smoke as though being cremated let ashes blown by wind seeking you in heaven and you will not aged in the mansion of my heart.