a few yesterdays ago
in the hours between the deepest of night
and the rising warmth of the sun,
when i was feeling how heavy
the weight of forgetting is,
i wrote you a letter.

it holds all of the secrets
i wanted you to know about my heart,
and the way that you left things
like the scattering of leaves
after a storm that never
showed up on anyone’s radar.

it tells the story of how many nights
i held your shape in the dark with my soul,
waiting,
and the way that i could make my breath
actually say your name even when i held it.

i wrote about the way that the moon
reminds me of the shiniest part inside of me
that you found and then stole
but that somehow still lights my way home
when i feel alone.

when i was done with the damp pages,
i folded it into a tiny, star-shaped heart
and carefully postmarked it
to a future you, who may or may not
someday care.

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