She looked at the envelope again,
Though the return address was already
Emblazoned in her mind. She wanted -
No, needed -
More than what ink on paper could give.
His name was dying to be spoken,
But when she tried, her mouth ran dry
And she had to choke back tears
Along with the words.
She didn't know if he'd come back,
Despite his promises.
Her forefinger mindlessly traced over
The scrawled handwriting, while her mind
Traced the contours of his face -
Not sharp, not chiseled, not perfect, just so very...
Him.
A sigh as the chair scraped against the tile,
Then the letter went back in the envelope,
The envelope back in the box,
And the box back in the closet.
Her hand still on the closet door, she heard
A car door slam in the driveway.
When was he going to walk in,
Instead of this man she had foolishly -
Oh, so foolishly -
Married instead?
Not for the first time,
She wished she hadn't settled.








