Envelopes stacked upon the table,
vaporized by sobbing wind,
dream calligraphy was penned inside,
ink vanishing in fireplace of lies.
Letter lips wrote, but never mailed
were lockets worn,
keys to places draped in nuptial white.
They all disappeared,
parchments stolen by fingers that once penned with caresses,
leaving only silence as knives, which never cease stabbing,
questions burning as hot coals, scorching for lack of answering.
Falling into abyss of ashen ink stains, heart mummified,
correspondence scripted again of alphabet in acrid hues,
memo crafted as eulogy epistle,
including address to graveyard where castle once existed
knight owner turning mortician just as all the others.
Sending dispatch to world with the same hope
as for a message for rescue placed in a prescription bottle
tossed on tides of tears
feeling utterly discarded on desert isle in middle of concrete sea.
Silver trophy winner
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