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In the Mailbox Today
You sent a letter
from prison
and we four perused
in awe
forgetting
the reason
you befriended the bars.
When our pillar died
you cried and said
you would never
trek that path again.
But I guess
you slipped on your tears
and broke your word.
But it's funny;
Everything gets shoved
out of perspective
each time you're in there,
and I can
love you again
like when I was
ten,
discarding
the dark.
And it's okay.
Nobody's perfect, man
and I'm crazy about
the day you get out.
But damn,
try to stick around
this time
as more
than a looseleaf.
I sit.
Carefully tracing
the cursive letters
as if they were art.
Maybe not,
but I hear a heartbeat
beneath the ink
and follow it down.
I still haven't blinked.
