words, expressing me
are all I have . . .
no glimpse of hazel eyes
or sun-bleached hair
no picture in a picture book
no style of dress, or flair

words, I send to you –
absent all politeness
and the small observances
of face to face review;
missives – as the art
of me

love expressed is founded
on what you show me
of your heart –
and so we start . . .

an affair – of words.


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