You used to love reading my poetry.

Comparing it to the likes of Dickinson and Bishop,

fascinated by this ability to capture my darkest moments and relive them through prose.


Something tells me you would not be so eager to read my words now.

Because you see, old lover,

time has not been kind to your memory.


And should you ever come across this, and wonder if it is really you to whom I speak.


the fun is all in the mystery.