I keep the letters you wrote me in a cd case.
Somewhere inside of my closet. On the far end of my room.
With space to spare. A few loose thoughts in the inbox.
I consider throwing them away. Rarely.
Because as ancient as those words seem to us now.
The story they tell is too important to let go.
Before your words started to feel like tears
& mine turned towards lead.
We were alchemist.
Giving birth to gold in a world so thirsty for it.
For any small dose of reality.
So well connected we don’t really know anyone.
Emoticons in place of emotions.
Probably why bitches love smiley faces.
I find myself looking through pages. Like first words.
My imagination runs rampant and my heart doesn’t know what it wants.
Just what its looking for. Some vague idea it had back then.
When all it needed was a few words.
Between the lines.