Pps Amour Instant

Postscript to a love I forgot to sign

PPS: This morning I peeled an orange for myself and thought of the way you used to save me the last slice. Sweet. Imperfect. Wet with the juice of something we couldn't name. pps amour

PPS: I lied when I said I didn't mind the silence. I collected every empty second you gave me and pressed them like dried flowers between the pages of a book I'll never finish. Postscript to a love I forgot to sign

After the letter was sealed, after the stamp was licked and stuck to the corner like a tiny prayer, I remembered the thing I left out— not the date, not the address, but the softest part. Wet with the juice of something we couldn't name

PPS: Do you remember the way light fell through the blinds that Sunday? Like confession through teeth. Like forgiveness through a crack in the door.