A Folder Named

Love was easy with distance
when words were all you were
save the odd emoticon
we’d both playfully recoil from
loathe as we were
to find such easy smiles

It’s what I remember
as I forget
that makes me return
a catalog of letters made modern
instant messages rewarmed
with the obvious unsaid

I half-hope you’ve kept them
half-hope they’ve been destroyed
that you’re happy without
that brief exchange
an unintentional immortalizing
left solely to me


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