I love letters because they, unlike other things,
are eternal.
They are not deleted in a fit of rage, nor erased out of biting
spitefulness.
Etched slowly into flexible fibers,
letters embody emotions. They personify
wishes and dreams, swear promises, and become oaths.
Niether said nor typed- they are
handmade, hand carved, shaped by the soul.
Tearsoaked, hate-driven, powered by love,
they vary as people often do. They dance
with their own spirits, allowed to travel
down whatever path they desire.
Letters are not ever lost. Even when
physically hidden, their contents are
imprinted into two hearts rather than two
screens.
Letters are always present. Even when
people falter, they sit, arms extended,
ready to balance, to remind, to reverse time.
Letters cannot be destroyed. Even when
burnt or shredded, their memory is never
out of mind.
So write me letters, love, letters, and I’ll write them too,
because in letters is love, and in love I found
you.