12.8.12

Burnt Letters

it's 4000 miles
from toronto to venice
it's cold. i'm alone.
my clothes smell like yesterday
winter's been chasing me
all across europe
but i've found a way to keep
warm:

i write all my sorrows
on air mail paper
thin enough for the light to shine through
then i burn every word
and once i feel better
i send all my love
not my lonesome
to you

boats on the water
are ferrying lovers
from hotel to restaurant
palace to church
i tour the alleys
making cold sandwiches
filling my notebooks
with words

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