I’ll write you letters of love that I love, my love,

the golden rule carved into a heart, on a tree where our names should be.

I’ve pretended to forget you while chasing your name in veins

now, I wring hands and write hymns meant to praise you without selling you so well some other she comes to purchase before I can find purchase here,

before I can stand on solid ground in some corner of your heart cheap enough for the only offer I can make.

I’ll write you letters of love that I love, my love, but when the time comes to read them so that you may care to read me we’ll find

my voice

is no bell

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