By Gala
Date: 26 September 2000
Priority Mail
I filled the box with care,
wrapping fine things that might get broken
(my heart)
with fluffy white stuff.
I poured something on the paper
covered with writing
(my thoughts)
so I could surround your senses.
I addressed it
and sent it flying your way
(my hopes)
like the monarchs fly
and they call it priority mail
while my heart
holds it breath
just waiting and hoping
that it will not be returned
unopened
return to sender
because the thing I sent you
with the best chance
of arriving damaged
was me.
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