Returned Envelope

the letter that he sent her got lost in the mail
turns out it was for the best as the letter was a fail
a string of words, bound in earnest, and signed with a smile
always in search of its true home, across town about three miles

I learned about this today when I opened up my box
i was soaking, dripping wet, from my head down to my socks
i saw the decorated envelope and i knew that it was lost
i thought about resending it, but then i saw the marks

the written words across the front, it was very clear
“Return to sender,” like the love, i used to cover fear
she always seemed the closest when her body wasn’t near
distance always suited her, it seemed that she was scared

it’s been three months since i’ve seen her, haven’t heard a peep
i wonder if this letter would have even made her think
for three months it had rested, near her kitchen sink
until one day she decided that it was a broken link

for a while she thought that she’d open it, when the timing was right
instead it got buried like her bills and the passing of the night
she decided as a gesture, as a way of reaching out
to return the letter to where it came, to send it on its final route

she wrote upon the envelope the magic words of three
then she walked down the street to post it properly
the mail box was brightly lit under the maple tree
as she dropped it in the slot she began to feel something

it was a tingle and a thought sent coursing through her spine
her mind, her heart, her lungs, her tongue, but was it a sign?
did this really mean something or was it a final sigh
a gasp of air, the release of hope, the death of what they shared

she will never notice and he will never learn
that their choices were still hopeless and they will always burn
their fear will engulf their souls in flames and they will always yearn
for a passion with which their hearts can easily discern

but tonight he walks from his mailbox to his lowly flat
thinking about his lover and where she might be at
while she sits across town, simply reading another book
a simple way to distract herself from taking a deeper look

she turns a page, drinks her wine, and pauses to close her eyes
she sees a vivid picture and it burns clearly in her mind
she sees a single child holding a string with a red balloon
this child begins to frown and then runs away too soon

the male slowly opens his door and turns on all the lights
puts down his bag, takes off his shoes, and embraces the respite
he listens to the silence and listens to the rain
from out his window he can hear it dripping into the drain

he walked into the kitchen to grab a cold beer from the fridge
she poured another glass of wine and took another wedge
of cheese to release the toxic thoughts that had gathered inside her head
the cracker box was empty but that was better for her bed

she drifted off to sleep and dreamed of many things
stars and bikes and trails and space and birdies that would sing
he sat upon his soft couch with one hand each holding
one had an opened can of beer and the other an unopened mailing

he decided that he wanted to remember what it was that he had wrote
so long ago, moved on anew, but his curiosity had spoke
so he opened up the letter as carefully as he could
he slid out a single sheet of paper and read his written words

“Wake up Marcus, you’re dreaming.
You’re gonna be late for work.

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