Lyric

It arrived with morning silver

Flat beneath the door

My name in my own writing

Returned across the floor

The seal was still unbroken

The postmark bruised in blue

A crease across the corner

Where weather had passed through

I touched the careful address

As if it might explain

How far a folded hope

Can travel back unchanged

Unopened

Unanswered

Unmoved

The paper knew

Unopened

Unanswered

Unused

Not even refused

I had written without pleading

No fire under the ink

Only one clean sentence

Allowed to stand and think

You did not need to wound it

You only let it stay

A beautiful small object

You would not look at either way

I sent them with no anger

Only folded, careful hope

But Letters Came Back Unopened

And taught me how to close

No cruel reply

No final line

No mercy in your hand

Just my own words returning

Like they knew where I would stand

I almost wrote another

Dear no one, dear once mine

I almost made my silence

Walk back across the line

I almost gave you language

Soft enough to keep

Then placed the page face downward

And let the paper sleep

Not every empty doorway

Deserves a voice inside

Not every hand that trembles

Should still be dignified

I took my name from the envelope

I took my hope from the room

Some kindness, left unread

Becomes another kind of tomb

Unopened

Unanswered

Unmoved

I understood

Unopened

Unanswered

Untouched

I had given enough

No opening

No ending

No reason

No return

The folded little mercy

Had nothing left to learn

I laid them in the drawer

With the ribbon turned aside

By evening, I was quieter

But no longer asking to be read