Postcard to B.

Faerie lights twinkle in her backyard

beckoning love from cities afar.

You live just around the corner

at the end of street twenty-two by car.

A picture frame hanging on white

some girl you knew but never met.

She lives in a different town

the furthest your heart would ever let.

. . .

She never felt your heart beat

against the inside of her palms.

Or how your soft whispers wander down

grazing her loving arms.

. . .

For all the girl in your picture could do

was to write this letter to you.