POV: PO Box

mailbox

365 days a year.

52 weeks.

Every day mouth opened.

Yawning wide

Letters fly in.

Hand hewn,

Seed of the soul

Love letters

I embowel.

Buried deep

In my belly

Until ghostly

Hands reach in

And rip them out.

Which is fair,

Because they never

Really belonged to me

In the first place.

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