12.13.17
winter heart and numbed fingertips warmed by your words and your words alone.
my mind hasn't shut up since I read your letter and I'm not entirely sure whether I want it to.
it's a reminder; an aide-memoire telling me that I am valued in a way I never considered.
I never knew misspelled words written in purple ink could carry such significance.
I wrote you my letter and then your shared yours, a small surprise in the middle of the night, a meeting in the hallway, I never expected this.
then again, I never expected you.
I've been writing about you long before your purple ink had stained my heart.
and I'll keep writing.
my mind hasn't shut up since I read your letter and I'm not entirely sure whether I want it to.
it's a reminder; an aide-memoire telling me that I am valued in a way I never considered.
I never knew misspelled words written in purple ink could carry such significance.
I wrote you my letter and then your shared yours, a small surprise in the middle of the night, a meeting in the hallway, I never expected this.
then again, I never expected you.
I've been writing about you long before your purple ink had stained my heart.
and I'll keep writing.
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