PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

John, if I die

        tonight

  yours will be the last voice

                     I heard

      my ears are closed now

  retaining your sound

         reverberating

     echoing



John, if our letters

                are lost

    misdelivered to another city

        some person's mailbox

  they'll know our

                truths

  they'll know our

                lies

       we licked the envelopes

we chewed the pens

    we thumbed the stamps

        our bodies are in letters



John, if we run out of

                    words

     we both know there's always

                    suicide

   there's always the passionate

         body collision

             words are just sounds

  animal grunts with endless

                indefinite meanings

we're above words, John

       if not, I'm sorry

               I'm mistaken