he sends me a birthday card, now in his early nineties
with his body full of blood clots and his form racking
with coughs and sneezes. he sends a card that flies
across the ocean, stamped with a sailor's hat,
its contents clamped shut with a wooden clip
he sends me a letter with curved letters
pressed firmly with a ballpoint
he tells me about the world across the border
how the tablets just increase the headaches
and his steps seem much slower, his world
standing still, his spine softened and his skin overlapping.
he skips whole words unknowingly,
missing letters through and through
and through a hasty
love, forever yours
he sends his love
a/n: wrote this with my birthday and all. y'all, i gotta stop but yeah, here you go.
