letters to be sent
I fold the silence into paper,
address it to your absence,
and let the ink wander
where my voice could not.
Every word is a bridge half
‑built across distance,
collapsing into the river
before you ever arrive.
Poetry by anonface

Read 1838 times
Written on 2025-09-25 at 23:59




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Lawrence Beck |
Texts |
by anonface ![]() Latest textsuncoredhow I go on what I carry Meniscus Doesn’t Lie letters to be sent |

