I’ll hide myself in between the letters,
4 lines,
Plus two names,
And an address.
Two corners trapped between my fingertips,
It rotates like the earth in its axis.
City Lights booksellers and publishers.
Black ink, smudged.
Shoppers in midwalk.
Mi Corazon, your name.
I think about the past,
And the words that have nothing to do with it.
I think about your eyes,
Staring at me, no, at this.
It’s a harsh jerk back to the present,
What if it never gets sent?
Have I already lost myself in a 3 ½ x 5 placard?
What if you never see it?
Will you even notice that your universe
Is without my earth?
Adding your comment: