Return to sender

Please place today
in an envelope unaddressed,
and tuck it softly in
a solitary wooden drawer
within tomorrow’s dark.

I want to finger the pages
of winding hours,
slats of light turning
your eyelashes into
a thousand golden filaments,
the mountains like earth-hewn pearls
in the misted afternoon.

And when I’ve memorized each
ephemeral glow and wonder,
we may write the date
coordinates to a kinder place
in the folded corner
Seal its thin lip between
forefinger and thumb.

And I will send the hours forth
to meet you where you are,
in the desert of forgetfulness
in the midst of your coldest need.

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