| With each word they tighten their fetters | letters | 
| and lengthen their chains. She swipes the notes he sends her, | center | 
| locked in shining sheets, somehow there | here, | 
| yet always beyond reach. Still she waits | making | 
| with open hands, catching coin, never knowing | love | 
| the lips from which each leaf is torn – | from | 
| still, she prays, where spaces stood, his letters stand – | unspanned | 
| still, where once he stood, she withstands grief | seas, | 
| like pennies pounded thin, like thieving | cleaving | 
| hands and mouths mutely confessing | confessions | 
|  | 
 
     
     
    