I read them, and then I threw them in the trash,
but make no mistake, I read them.
I swallowed them whole.
I filled my eyes with every word,
I sewed them in patterns into my flesh.
At night I wake to entertain the ghosts lounging in my bedroom
with impromptu recitations of your letters,
of your thoughts,
of the shape of you in words.
But I could not keep your letters.
I could not let them languish in a dusty box,
fermenting into poisons in the closet dark.
I could not let them lie in wait,
like coiled paper vipers,
ready to strike the hand that strays too far and stirs the den.
- Gabriel Gadfly
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