If you had been my online lover,
I could not have wooed you as I did. I would not have written letters in midnight blue ink on deckle edged paper, carefully considered words from my attic of endearments reminiscent of a monogrammed hankie, a pressed carnation, whiff of cologne. Your responses inspired me to write poems: images of holding hands across miles of longing. You write as you speak: witty, debonair. The baritone of your […]
