You never liked to get
The letters that I sent.
But now you've got the gist
Of what my letters meant.
You're reading them again,
The ones you didn't burn.
You press them to your lips,
My pages of concern.
I said there'd been a flood.
years
wounded
would
there
strength
solitude
stand
simple
reading
defense
concern
coming
press
extent
never
address
flood
cross
again
liked
forms
appear
kindness
nothing
hoped
meant
intense
begin
letter
letters
story
lines
pages
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