I licked
the envelope
containing myself
shut
and before I knew it
standing by the metal post box
let it drop
heavy and thinly covered
composed of filigree
a sound I am reminded of
with each urge
to be enclosed and
sent off
I know not where
but it will have
sail boats that knock against each other
with gentle shoreline waves
and at night
a lute
plays reedy and low
as dancers without shoes
as slim as whiskers
bronzed by day
slip in and out
of wet candlelight
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