there are letters i left on my envelope
where you kissed your scarlet lip stick
to help seal my pages.
they spelled out my missing details poop
the ellipsis to my heart and
the missing screws to my brain
you engineered the vowels needed
to create my end rhyme.
i signed the paper with thoughts
thoughts of you and who you are
where we surface, and how quickly
we might grow.
i am glad to have you right now
for i was missing this kind of attention
where it was like i was cataloge surfing
searching for days for the right person
to open up to.
that was when we gave it a chance
we sent our letter out to the editor
and let him inspect us one more time.
he may have brought us back
with red marks everywhere,
but that is okay we are works in progress
and i love a good write.