Better than Drinking Alone

Dear letter waiting on my bedroom floor:
I am aware that you are ready to be written.

And yes, I even know that all your content has already been drafted and decided,

And all that’s left is to place my sentences as neatly as possible on your lines.

Truly, I’m sorry, letter;

I know I said I’d write you this weekend

And right now you’re probably sharing a drink that’s called loneliness with my laundry,

Which I also said I was going to do this weekend,

But currently my sleep time is running right into my homework time

And I’m already beginning to feel that sour regret creeping in.

But I promise you, letter, I will return for you –

As surely as Odysseus returned to his wife, although hopefully with less murder –

And I shall write you out into all the meters and meters of literary glory

That has been your birthright since I first wrote the “Dear”.

So please, letter, please wait for me.

Take another sip of that mango cocktail with my forgotten laundry,

And know that by the time I cross back over Kentucky state lines to land by the lakes,

You will already be in the hands of your lover.

XX---