Letters from my husband
I found the letters the first Christmas after we got married
in your neat cursive writing, your declarations of affections
time limit: none, addressed to her
the one you casually dismissed with a wave
a shrug, 'we haven't spoken in years'
I should have thrown them away
(on second thoughts: why were they still around?)
I read each one that afternoon alone in the kitchen
the scent of cinammon rising in the oven transported to Norway
where you first told her you loved her
dragged back to England: the house, the shared lives, the dog
Is this any good at the moment? I haven't finished writing it yet.
Put the internet to work for you.
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