Letters
I’ll remember
long when your footsteps grow silent
on the porch
when your laughter dies
in the crackling waves of the lycra curtains
when your smell evaporates
into the thick fragrance of faded cyclamens
on the window shelf
and the song of your fingers
on strings suffocates
in the nonsensical rambling of the radio
when letters addressed to you
stop winding up in my blue letter box
as lost as me without you
drifting
with no addressee
only with a stamp
of lost, longing love
of unheard words
secrets painful to keep
but forced to nurse them
for the future, for a future
alone
without you
when I’ll remember
from Autumn Sky Poetry 12 — by Brigita Orel
Photo by Brigita Orel
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