Writing for Love

I sit to write my lost letters to you,
the only thing left I know how to do.
The silence is rich
with words of longing.
On paper, blank white, I’m quick to forget
how quickly you sink when filled with regret.
A purpose is filled
with each stroke of pen.
We grow with distance, more in love each day.
How lucky we are to live lives away.
It’s hard, remember
the touch of my hands.
I think of you through my long, empty day;
and always keep true, we’re just words away.