MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Poppy by Carol Dandrade

Table of Contents

Poetry


The Letter I Never Sent

Danielle Pringle

Dear boy,

I canít remember
how my name sounds from your mouth, or
the way your jaw feels when you forget to shave,
but I do recall

your room.
The thin duvet, the yellow curtains,
the succulents crusted in the first phase
of death on your windowsill.

I bought them all, but maybe
it grew too full of me, buried you.
I even bought your sheets,
and now, I imagine,

thereís someone else
changing them for you. This is what I thought
when I saw you the other day and
I didnít know how to be a stranger.

Formerly yours,
Girl





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