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John, If
John, if I die
tonight
yours will be the last voice
I heard
my ears are closed now
retaining your sound
reverberating
echoing
John, if our letters
are lost
misdelivered to another city
some person's mailbox
they'll know our
truths
they'll know our
lies
we licked the envelopes
we chewed the pens
we thumbed the stamps
our bodies are in letters
John, if we run out of
words
we both know there's always
suicide
there's always the passionate
body collision
words are just sounds
animal grunts with endless
indefinite meanings
we're above words, John
if not, I'm sorry
I'm mistaken
