The envelope

Imagine an envelope addressed in the most exquisite
gilt hand
Close your tired eyes, my love,
and imagine it stuffed with letters and photographs
So many pieces of folded paper that it’s tearing at the edges
All those carefully curated words are penned softly in smooth, black ink
and all by my shaking, aching hand
No two letters read alike
Though all are titled:
to my dearest love,
Though all are signed:
yours faithfully, forever and for always—
This is my version of love actualised
The worn envelope
it reads but your name

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