letter from a poem to a poet
maybe we’re all just fragments
little pages from a book.
meant simply for reminiscience
but nothing else,
you were wrong to think of us
as something to hold on to
we’re tangible and unfeeling
just a few sentences of escape?
just drive deeper to the center
of your unbelievable plateau
as we remain inanimate
and pay no attention to our words
we are just thirteen
fourteen
fifteen solitary lines
and you (sixteen) no greater as the asignee