When a Letter Dies, It Bleeds Blue

I wrote you a two-page letter
with blue ink
under much consideration.

You tore it into
pieces,
rolled them in a
ball,
put it inside your
mouth,
chewed on it,
spat it out,
dried it in the naked sun,
burnt it,
and buried the ashes two-feet deep
in the ground.

This is how you kill a letter –
equivalent to a one-sentence reply.

But now that you have swallowed the
blue ink,
you have got the blues
inside you.

I have given you the blues.

 

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