Words languishing
on yellowing paper,
corners rusted brown.
Today,
among ancient diaries
I found an old letter.
Undelivered. Written
a day or
a century ago.
it doesn’t matter
anymore. The letter
that was never sent.
Between its writing
and reading,
time cracks
as my questions
find their own answers
Scripting the story of life
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Anawnimiss 
Reblogged this on Anawnimiss and commented:
Reblogging because the jpeg version wouldn’t go through!
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Nice
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I love poets and poetesses
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There, see? I knew you couldn’t hate people like me!
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