From the Iowa Prison Writing Project
Your letter by James Schmidt
The chilled envelope tis slowly torn open
Soon thy warm fingers crest the paper
The paper moans as it’s unfolded quickly
Thy brown eyes follow your words written in pencil
Tis as if thy eyes tis dancing with your words
The letter tis half gone
Thy eyes tis focused on the way you write the letter M
Thy mind tis focused on the way you write the letter S
With every passing letter I wonder
What twas on your mind
Twas it truly on me
Twas it on something else
Thy eyes stop on the letter g and its tail
Twas you frustrated at this moment
Your gentle letter tis vanishing like fog
Thy mind tis filled with desire for more
The last sentence tis leaving thy eyes
The letter tis come to its end
Thy eyes fixed on your lovely name
A tear escapes its cage
The paper moans as it’s fold up
Under protest the letter slices into thy flesh
The letter tis put back into its chilled envelope
Thy finger tips crave your next letter
Thy mind wanders about
Thy eyes cry out for more
Thy eyes cry out to see your face…