water damaged paper

“I miss her,” he admits.
The air is chill and the snoring around him is at its roar.
He gave up covering his ears months ago.
Now, the crashing sounds around him form melodies he has grown quite fond to hear.
They keep his mind from wondering.  And he does not need worry of having his voice found.
He can admit his longings and say them out-loud – without another ear hearing their sound.
In his fingers he holds the last of her memory.
A letter.
It’s gone through the fire. (That of angry men.)
It has gone through the water. (For rain is a merciless crude.)
But still the young lad holds it – tightly – in his fingers.
The damned water damaged paper.

3 thoughts on “water damaged paper

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s