Hand Written Letter

In the damp air of a pouring August I long for words to break their handcuffs I want my confession to be a hand-written letter Forever resting in your bedside drawer Where my thoughts have shaped into calligraphy To fill in undiluted ink the pages of our story Never growing feeble with the running time Though the page might turn yellow with age My love must stay young and wrinkle free As the rain gains momentum after a slight nap I long for words to spread themselves over the sheet Like a wayward wave caressing the shore Will you read my words? Waiting for you to devour them with your gaze Waiting for you to soak them, till they become A part of the books you hold inside.