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 The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 1838 times
Written on 2025-09-25 at 23:59

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A splendid, disciplined poem, one that is a pleasure to read.
2025-09-26