Letter #1

Dear Everett,
I could have dropped words between the silences that we strung together with our dysfunctional emotions, but you could have heard a moonflower unfurl its petals where we stood together, because your chin jutted out like the bow of a ship and I didn't need to read minds to know that you cared not for poetry, for words, or for me. You've faded like a ghost and I walk right through you brushing your fingertips as I go.

Remember me.