I don’t like the mail.
It frightens me.
With its closed envelopes,
And its anticipation.
But I love your letters.
With your return address.
And their words.
Did I touch where you touched?
Have our hands touched?
They watch as I slowly reach,
Inside the box.
And jump when I see your name.
And my name.
On the same envelope.
We share an envelope.
That’s romantic.
I love the mail.
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