I hid my letters for you
in deep chambers
of my heart
And I wrote the poems
where you are the muse
in my rugged journals
I don't know
if you could ever read them
they've been left untouched
for so long now
But if ever you find them
and decide
to write back a reply,
Whisper them in your prayers
instead
I won't be able to read them
when that time comes
but maybe—
just maybe,
The angels will tell me
your response.
