check yes or no

I write you with
purple ink
swirled hieroglyphics
for you to translate

on lined paper,
a raggedy edge
where torn from
our old half-used up

line after line after line
I fill with days 

made of letters,

tasks, mundane milestones,
inconsequential goings-on

I only hear the clock ticking
softly after 4 am
when the house is alone
and even my breaths are silent

the envelope
stuffed with empty words
stamped by the door

we used to write
love notes
in smudged pencil,
the same paper
worn grey
from our hands

I’ve grown-up
and use pen 
as I make indelible statements
even as the words
have faded away

So talk to me, baby ...

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