I once found a piece of paper
lying in a parking lot
obviously dropped by accident
veritably unseen by all
except me.
Yellow in color
ornate, how could it have gone
unnoticed?
My spirit was reminded
of the mistakes of my heart’s
rueful past and
entreated me to pick it up.
The paper revealed two
hand written words, “My Love,“
and nothing more.
Youthful affection
overwhelmed by
unwonted devotion perhaps?
Whoever wrote this
incomplete letter certainly was
languid in their
love language.
Ecstatic emotions
verbalized on paper, or was it
expressed feelings
reposefully translated?
Knowing what to write is
not as important as
opening your heart and showing
what you feel.
Honorable mention
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