it's been a good week
i wrote you a couple
poems
long skinny strips
of desire on a sheet
of white
that end at the hem
of your red dress
they are to be folded
like half of you over
the over stuffed sofa
for a dance through
the u.s. postal system
poems that were sealed
with sentiment
and slipped into you
as you held the pages
but they are only carbon
copies with the real
desire left at the mailbox