A letter never left on a kitchen table

I can’t write you
little notes anymore.

I still know your address,
there is still available paper
in the gray morning when you
are asleep between my sheets,

my pen can still form the lines
of your name, the swoop and curl
of the middle letters, the walls
on the outside. I try
and try to find something

that must be said, and am afraid
I’ve said it all.

These are words searching for the place
in my heart you occupy. A territory
walled, like your name, annexed
from the rest, this part which

was once the center
of my being, now a crater. I’m waiting
for you to come and fill it in.

2 Comments

Filed under Frustrations and Rants, lust and love, poetry

2 responses to “A letter never left on a kitchen table

  1. Ruinn

    I loved this poem. Speaks of longing that we’re all too well familiar with. Nicely done.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s